


The Unbreakable Mind

by CMCS1520



Series: The Unbreakable Series [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Badass characters, Blood and Gore, Crossover, Cute, Family, Gen, Horror, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Light Torture, Mystery, Sherlock x Hetalia, oh shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7427878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMCS1520/pseuds/CMCS1520
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The consulting detective Sherlock Holmes and his blogger John Watson are given a classified case by Mycroft that not only puts many lives in danger but would risk revealing the nation's identities to the whole world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Disappearing Act

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sherlock and Hetalia don't belong to me

##### SOMEWHERE NEAR YORK STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 / 13:01 AM

A warm breeze brushed through the trees and filled the air with a light feeling. The night sky shined with stars and held few clouds as time ticked by. Footsteps could be heard crunching the graveled pathway as a young man ran through the street with a creature in his arms. The man appeared to be in his 20s and wore a pair of rounded dark purple spectacles. His light brown jacket appeared unironed and his khakis had blotches of mud splattered on the edges. The creature he held had white fur and lay still in the man’s arms while seemingly sleeping. The London street lights lit the way as he took quick steps towards a red Fiat that lay parked a few feet away. The man came to a stop and stood close to the vehicle as he hurried to pull a pair of car keys from his pocket. Then another pair of footsteps could be heard coming towards him at a quicker pace than he had thought was possible. The blonde man gasped and quickly pulled the car door open and placed the creature inside. He locked the door and threw his keys in before shutting the door. The man turned quickly and faced another man wearing all black who he presumed had been following him for almost an hour. The blonde man pulled out a small silver pistol from his coat pocket and turned the safety off with a click. The other man held out a wooden bat and tossed it from hand to hand while wearing a twisted smile. Both of their breaths were heavy as if they had run a grand distance. The young man’s violet eyes appeared lonely while the other man’s brown ones were filled with bloodthirst. The young man held his gun up towards the other man and tilted his head in a threatening manner as if he was ready to strike. The other man smirked and pointed a crooked finger behind the young man who immediately paled realizing a big mistake. He had never bothered to check behind him. The young man turned around slowly with his pistol still raised in a way of providing false safely. His violet eyes widened as another man wearing all dark blue raised a steel tofa and bashed it into his skull with a quick movement. The young man’s world darkened quickly as he fell to the floor in a heap and slipped into a unwake-able slumber. The two men snickered as a large black van with no license plate pulled up to them. Another man wearing a white suit stepped out and opened the van’s back revealing a large area behind the driver's seat. The two other men grabbed the young man, the completely black one held his legs while the other dark blue one his arms, and brought the man in the van. The white suited man closed the van’s back doors as the men stepped in and then he slipped into the van’s driver seat. The black van pulled away quickly and made it’s way down the street unseen by all except by the fluffy white creature that sat in the young man’s red Fiat. The fluffy creature had woken up from his slumber and had helplessly watched the men take the young man away with no ability to help his friend. The creature sighed sadly and picked the car’s keys with his paw. The creature placed the silver key in the car’s key hole, turning on the engine, and then he touched the car's screen. The screen displayed many options such as maps and the radio but the creature turned to the car’s built in cell service. The creature looked through the young man’s contacts and pressed on the name of a familiar English man he knew lived nearby. The ringing tone rang through the air until the car made a small beeping noise. A British accented voice spoke from the other end of the call with an exhausted tone. 

**“….Hello?”**


	2. Eight O’Clock Then?

##### YORK STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 / 13:39 AM

A light blonde haired man with thick eyebrows walked down a dark pathway when he suddenly saw a lonely red Fiat parked beside the side block. The car was parked illegally for the matter and quite far away from where he would think that most cars usually parked. He stuffed his hands in his green jacket pockets and walked up to car slowly. He had not expected to be woken up so early in the morning but duty had called him to this small pathway near York Street. The man neared the car when he noticed a splotch of red on the side block next to the car. He bent down a dipped a finger in the liquid. Holding it up in the light his suspicion was confirmed of what the mystery substance was. Blood. A silver glint caught his eye suddenly and he looked underneath the car. A silver pistol lay on the ground underneath the car which caused him to wonder how it got there. The light blonde haired man reached under the car with his left arm, grabbing the pistol, and then he slipped it into his coat pocket. The blonde man tapped lightly on the car’s window waking a fluffy white creature that lay on the driver's seat. The creature crawled to the door from the inside and tapped it as well, unable to open it with his claws. The man sighed, disappointed that he didn’t try to open the door before. He swung the unlocked door open and caught the creature who tumbled out of the car as well. The man held the creature to his chest for a moment then held it out with his thick brows furrowed. Several questions flooded his mind but he decided to stay silent since the creature seemed extremely flustered. The blonde man slipped into the red vehicle and placed the creature in his lap. The man drove the car a few blocks down the street and parked the red Fiat in a completely legal spot. The man picked up the creature once again and slipped out of the car swiftly. He grabbed the car’s keys and locked the vehicle while closing the door. The creature snuggled up to the man’s chest while the man pocketed the keys. The man looked up at the sky which seems to become brighter by the second. He found a wooden bench by the street and sat down slowly. His back ached from rushing out of his house so quickly when the creature had called his cell phone. Looking down at himself he realized that he had not changed his pants and still wore his striped pj bottoms. 

**“What happened Kumajiro? You said something awful happened over the phone….”**

The man said with his smooth British accent. His emerald eyes glared down at the fluffy creature, called Kumajiro, who had curled up in his arms. The scene almost brought a smile to his face if it hadn't been so early in the morning. The British man had planned to prepare for an international meeting being held at his home in a few days but observing Kumajiro’s condition he began to think that his plans would be coming to a hold for the next day or so. Kumajiro took a few deep breaths and rubbed his coal colored eyes. He quickly looked around for other persons walking around but the emptiness of the street comforted him. Then Kumajiro looked up at British blonde man and began to retell the events that had occurred. 

**“We got here late evening yesterday-”**

Kumajiro began to say only to be interrupted by the blonde man. Kumajiro sighed and licked his paw. His fur was knotted and he felt quite tired but sometimes he was always tired. The plane ride he had taken to London was awful. Being classified as a polar bear meant that he had to be cadged and put in the underneath section of the plane. Though his owner, the violet eyed man, apologized several times he still held the grudge. 

**“You and whom?”**

The blonde man asked while interrupting the bear as he tried to collect all the facts. Though he apologized quickly after for interrupting Kumajiro. He felt it was necessary to get as much information as possible if he was to bring up the situation with the coppers or Scotland Yard for the matter. Kumajiro began to speak again but then the man reminded the the fluffy creature not to use their real names. The bear rubbed his eyes again and then finally told his story. 

**“Matthew and I got here in the late evening yesyerday. He was pretty tired so we went straight to the apartment. Later maybe around 8:00pm we went out for dinner and I fell asleep after we left the restaurant. The next thing I know I’m locked in the car and Matthew is being taken away by these guys. The two that put him in this black man we wearing black and dark blue. Then there was the driver of the van who was wearing this fancy white suit. I don't think the van had a license plate and I didn't see their faces. It may have been around 1:13am. Matthew looked unconscious. Arthur, he was kidnapped…. I think. I don't like this it is giving me a headache.”**

Kumajiro said, his voice wavering, and it almost seemed that he was about to break into tears. The man, known as Arthur, took a deep breath while covering his eyes and then he rubbed the bear behind his left ear. Arthur’s mind filled with despair realizing that this was a very serious matter and he most definitely need help. People rarely kidnapped them. The nations. If this was a kidnapping, which it most seemed so, then it is either a random kidnap for money or it was planned for something mush worse. Arthur ran his fingers through his hair and held the polar closer to his chest. Arthur stood up from the bench and began walking down the street towards his home that was about twenty minutes away. Arthur walked around in silence for almost fifteen minutes until he figured that he needed to make a call. He checked the time to realize that it was almost 14:00 am which was bad news for how he was going to feel in the morning. Most likely he was going to feel like crap. Though he realized that Matthew being kidnapped is much more serious than his beauty sleep. He held Kumajiro with one hand close his chest while he pulled his cell phone with his other hand. Arthur scrolled through his contacts until he found the name of his most trusted human contact. Though he barely trusted any human anyway this one was more trustable than others. He called the number and held his phone to his ear as it rang. The human picked up and sighed deeply. 

**“Is there something you require at this ungodly hour Sir Kirkland?”**

A tired voice sarcastically said while Arthur rolled his eyes. He knew that it was quite early in the morning but he often forgot that humans need more sleep than nations do. Arthur felt that any sarcasm at this hour was unnecessary since Matthew could be getting his head kicked in at the moment. Arthur shook his head and focused on his current conversation.

**“I don’t need your sarcasm at this moment Mycroft. I need to speak with you in person around eight o'clock. Something revolting has occurred with a dear member of my family.”**

Arthur said quickly while finally reaching the large building that he called home. The house was more of mansion though. It stood almost five floors up and held more than twenty rooms including a enormous ballroom where the international meeting was going to be held. He unlocked the front door with a pair of keys and slipped into the warm atmosphere. Arthur looked down to see that Kumajiro had fallen asleep which did cause him to smile slightly. 

**“You will have to be more specific. Though, are we on first name basis now?”**

Mycroft said with a more serious tone than when he had answered Arthur's call. Arthur closed his home's front door and locked it. He began to walk away but then checked the lock once more. Arthur tossed his shoes to the side next to a coat stand and blinked his tired emerald eyes. Then he walked into his warm living room and sat down on a comfy green couch. His living room consisted of two green couches, a reclining chair, a fireplace, a coffee table which he called his 'tea table', and several old paintings he had collected over the few centuries.

**“I am but you may refer to me with my last and first human name. I feel as if I have said this before. Oh, and the revolting situation is that my son has been kidnapped by an unidentified group of men. I hope that is serious enough for you to make room in your agenda.”**

Arthur said with a cold tone while he lied down completely on the couch while Kumajiro lay on his chest fast asleep. The other end of the call was silent and then Arthur heard Mycroft take a deep breath. 

**“Eight o’clock then Sir Kirkland. Shall I invite my little brother and his blogger?”**

Mycroft said sternly while seeming writing something down on a notepad. Arthur thought about inviting the quite popular consulting detective and his blogger but the pros overcame the cons. The detective was well known by many and had many contacts. The blogger had military experience which might come in handy. He thought that the more help the faster this whole mess would go away and Matthew would be returned safely. Arthur looked up at his painted ceiling and rubbed his eyes again. 

**“Are they trustworthy?”**

Arthur asked sternly. He couldn’t risk telling someone about the other nations and himself if they were untrustworthy. Though he was willing to take certain risks they had encountered a situation before were lives had to be cut down when there was an information leak. Leaders and associates were screened and told that if any information about the nations was told to another source their life was on the line which usually was a well enough threat to silence the unworthy.

**“Depending on my brother’s current mood. Yes. The blogger is also a yes. Though that may change. Has this been settled?” ******

Mycroft said with a tone Arthur could only distinguish as exhaustion. Arthur thought silently for a moment but decided that all knots so far had been tied. He was also tired as well and his mind was filled with many emotions that he disliked having. 

**“I believe so.”**

Arthur said smoothly and then he hung up the phone. Arthur yawned and tossed his phone to the end of the couch. He cringed as his phone almost dropped to the floor but fell onto a pillow next to his right leg. He started to get up but then decided to just fall asleep then and there. Though the nation barely got any sleep that night from thinking of what could be happening to the poor Canadian he called family.


	3. The Case

##### 221B BAKER STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 / 6:35 AM

John Watson did not expect to be woken up so early but it seemed that Sherlock exclaiming “A CASE!” is a loud enough wake up call. John got dressed in a brown jacket, white t-shirt and a pair of dark green pants. He walked out of his bedroom room and then walked into the living room which Sherlock and him shared. Sherlock sat silently in his usual seat scrolling through his phone with a neutral expression planted on his face that could only mean that his excitement had been dulled. John sat down in his light brown and velvet chair with a thump and sighed. The two of them had stayed up the night earlier solving a case with Lestrade that, perceived by Sherlock, was a joke case. John and Sherlock sat in silence for almost seven minutes until a knock on the door interrupted the peace. Sherlock looked up from his phone and John turned to see Mrs. Hudson step in with a smile. 

**“Oh. Good morning John. There’s a car parked outside waiting for you two boys.”**

Sherlock stood up and brushed off his long coat. John smiled at Mrs. Hudson who then took off and he looked over to Sherlock with a confused expression. John sat there with the the same expression for a while as Sherlock slipped his phone into his pocket and grabbed a notepad. Sherlock tossed John the note pad then walked towards the door. John slipped the note pad in his coat pocket and grabbed his cell phone from a small table next to his chair. 

**“What…. is going on Sherlock?”**

John said as Sherlock pulled on his long dark blue scarf. John stood up and brushed off his pants as Sherlock faced him. The tall British man wore a smile that caused John to feel extremely uneasy. 

**“A case of course. Let’s go.”**

Sherlock walked swiftly out of the room and John followed him unsteadily. John shut the flat’s door and trailed behind Sherlock who appeared to be full of adrenaline. He still felt sore and had a uneasy sleep which left him still exhausted.

**“A-a case? I’ve just woken up!”**

John exclaimed as the two walked down a staircase and outside into the fresh London air. Just next to the side block across Speedy’s stood a black car with a familiar man standing next to it. Sherlock and John crossed the street quickly and John soon realized why they were leaving so early. Mycroft waved at the two as they approached the car and he wore a twisted smile. Sherlock and John stopped walking and Mycroft pulled open the car’s side door. 

**“Glad you two could make it. Dr. Watson you're looking well.”**

Mycroft said while slipping into the seat next to a man who seemed to be driving the car. Sherlock slipped into the back seat and John sat beside him. John shut the door and the car came to life. The driver pressed the gas and they began their journey to an unknown location.

**“Well thanks. You as well. May I ask what the bloody hell is going on?!”**

John said with a tone of anger while clipping in his seat belt. Sherlock did the same. The car drove down the street and soon encountered a stop light. Mycroft turned his head slightly and faced the two. 

**“Sherlock didn’t tell?”**

Mycroft said as a smile crept onto his lips. Sherlock furrowed his brows and looked over to John.

**“I thought I made myself clear….”**

Sherlock said while trailing off. John scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest. He was fine dealing with one of the Holmes brothers but both were a headache waiting to happen. John leaned back in his seat and frowned. 

**“Exclaiming ‘A case of course’ is not very descriptive Sherlock.”**

John said and Sherlock opened his mouth to retort but decided silence was the best choice. Mycroft handed John a slim file and then cleared his throat. John opened the file which only contained two sheets of paper and a photograph of a young blonde man who had the oddest violet eyes. The paper only had a short description of the man and many sentences seemed to be blacked out. John handed the file to Sherlock who glanced over it quickly then handed it back to Mycroft. 

**“The young man you see is a Canadian representative named Matthew Williams. He’s called Mattie by his brother and his brother only. He arrived in London around 7:45 pm yesterday and was seemingly kidnapped around 1:13am this morning. His car was found abandoned by his family member, who you will be meeting with, on York Street. I hope you have no questions.”**

Mycroft said smoothly as the car pulled up to a large home. Mycroft stepped out of car and opened the door beside Sherlock. Sherlock slipped out with John right behind him. Mycroft shut the door and the car sped away off to it’s next destination. The three walked up to the house and Mycroft knocked four times on the door. 

**“What is the man’s name?”**

John asked curiously while the three waited as the sound of footsteps neared. Mycroft held his hands behind his back and stared straight ahead. He spoke with a clear voice. 

**“You will see.”**

The door swung open and a short light blonde haired man with thick eyebrows stood in the doorway. He wore black shoes, an unbuttoned green jacket, a red vest, and long black paints that appeared to be made of wool. The man frowned and looked at the taller men with uncertainty. 

**“You are quite early.”**

The man said sternly with a tired voice. Mycroft nodded and then man stood aside as the three men entered the warm home. Unknowing of what they were getting into. John looked around the large home and gasped. It appeared very Victorian and not the least bit modern. There were few electric lights and the wallpaper appeared as if it hadn’t been changed in one hundred years. Sherlock looked around uncertainly and observed almost every object as he attempted to figure out who this man was. The blonde haired man lead them into a small living room and spread a hand to a green couch. Sherlock and John took a seat on the couch while Mycroft remained standing. The blonde man took a seat in a red reclining chair and looked up sternly at Mycroft. 

**“You can have a seat Mycroft.”**

The man said with a accent that sounded like an extremely old British accent from what might of been originated in the east part of England. Mycroft sat on another green couch that sat across from where Sherlock and John were. The blonde man crossed his legs and placed his hands in his lap while twisting a green ring on his right middle finger. Sherlock looked over the man and then clapped his hands together. The man smirked at Sherlock and leaned forward. He pointed a finger toward Sherlock and took a breath. 

**“I believe you are William Sherlock Scott Holmes…..”**

The man began saying which startled the detective and then the man pointed a finger towards John. 

**“…. And you are Dr. John Hamish Watson. Now I hear the both of you are quite experienced in the world of crime. Am I correct?”**

The blonde haired man said smoothly without missing a beat. His emerald eyes glanced from the two to Mycroft who sat silently in his seat. The British man sat up straight and looked over to Mycroft more sternly now. 

**“If you brought me the wrong men I w-”**

The man began but Mycroft shook his head and the man looked back over to Sherlock and John. Sherlock seemed to be too startled to speak and John could not believe that this man knew their full names while they knew nothing of this man. 

**“Are you two alright? I read up on the two of you if that helps you solve the mystery of how I know your full names.”**

The British man said softly but even John could tell that he was lying. Sherlock snapped out of his state and intertwined his fingers together. 

**“You’re lying.”**

Sherlock said causing the man to frown slightly but then the man smirked.

**“I am. But now you are talking. Do you know why you are here Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson?”**

The man said with voice full of confidence that Sherlock could barely see through. John and Sherlock glanced at each other but John decided to break the silence.

**“A member of your family has been kidnapped I think…. And you can just call me John. I don’t believe I know your name though.”**

John said while leaning forwards slightly. The man’s expression became softer and he looked over to Mycroft.

**“You didn't tell them?”**

The man asked with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Mycroft shook his head and the man faced Sherlock and John again.

**“I go by Sir Arthur Kirkland but I suppose you both may just call me Arthur for now.”**

The man, who Sherlock and John now knew to be called Arthur, said silently. Sherlock started to become anxious to get to the case and placed his head in his hands.

**“Bored Mr. Holmes…. or shall you ask me questions? How is this going to work?”**

Arthur said while uncrossing his legs and glaring at Sherlock who looked up at him. 

**“The man who was kidnapped…. Matthew Williams. How are the two of you related?”**

Sherlock asked. Arthur thought for a hard thirty seconds then answered. 

**“In a way I raised him….”**

Arthur said while trailing off. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and John took out his note pad. He realized he did have a pen.

**“Sorry, do you have a pen I could borrow?”**

John asked. Arthur reached in his coat and then handed John a black inked pen with his left hand. Sherlock frowned and crossed his arms and asked another question.

**“How old are you? Mr. Williams appeared almost in his twenties and you look barely over twenty-five.”**

**“I’m older than I look.”**

Arthur replied, purposely avoiding having to answer his true age. He was not sure about trusting these two men yet.

**“Were there any witnesses?”**

John asked while scribbling down notes. Arthur sighed and looked over to John.

**“Yes. He’s here if you want to speak with him. I highly doubt you’ll get an answer.”**

Arthur said with a smile. He knew that a talking bear was most likely going to freak John out and Sherlock most likely, according to his reputation, would deny the existence of such a creature. 

**“I’m sure he will be willing to reply.”**

Sherlock said while pulling off his scarf. Arthur smiled and walked out of the room swiftly to bring the witness in. Sherlock looked over to Mycroft and frowned.

**“Who is this man? I don’t work with clients who I barely know in such a manner like this.”**

Sherlock said in a hushed voice while Mycroft smiled. 

**“You’ll find out very soon little brother. A tip for the both of you. Denying who he is will make this case unsolvable.”**

Mycroft stated while standing up from his seat.

**“Tell Sir. Kirkland I have departed. Good luck to the both of you. Don’t get on his bad side whatever you do.”**

Mycroft said while leaving. Sherlock and John looked on as Mycroft left the house swiftly without another word. The two waited until the door shut and then they faced each other.

**“Why would we need good luck and a warning? Sherlock who is this man or what is he?”**

John whispered to Sherlock who seemed as confused as him but Sherlocked seemed to hate it.

**“I don’t know John. He is old. This house, his cloths, and even his accent is very old. The only thing that is confusing me is he appears quite young. He also said he raised Mr. Williams which is near impossible since the two of them are barely five years apart in age. I can’t understand this and I most definitely do not like that.”**

Sherlock whispered back then a creaking noise cause the two of them to turn to the living room’s entrance. Arthur stood there with a smug look hold a fluffy white creature asleep in his arms. Sherlock and John sat there in silence as Arthur returned to his seat and woke up the creature who gazed around the room. John pointed a finger toward the creature and stutted out a statement.

**“I-is that a…. polar bear?”**

He said as the polar bear looked directly at the two of him. Arthur patted the bear’s head and smirked.

**“Yes. And his name is Kumajiro.”**


	4. A Provided Explanation

##### AN UNKNOWN STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 / 7:08 AM

John and Sherlock sat silently on the green couch as they gazed at the British man. Arthur found them quite amusing such as he did with most humans. While he had gone upstairs to fetch Kumajiro he had decided that the two men were trustable enough. Arthur could tell that this case was going nowhere unless he got the wheels rolling and rolling soon. They may not believe him but at least the case might be more understandable. Arthur sighed and looked up at Sherlock who seemed even more frustrated than before. 

**“That animal is the witness?”**

Sherlock stated out while beginning to believe this was just another joke case.

**“Yes. He is. Did Mycroft leave?”**

Arthur asked glancing over to the empty space where Mycroft was seated. He realized before that Mycroft was bound to leave soon. Arthur recalled the moment when he shared the secret of the nations with Mycroft who was completely in denial of it for almost a month. The denial would have continued if Arthur hadn't gotten frustrated and cut his hand so Mycroft could see it healed right in front of him. That gave him the idea to do the same in front of the two if they denied what he was.

**“Yes…. He warned us not to get on your bad side.”**

John said slowly. Arthur nodded and wrapped his arms around Kumajiro who had begun to skirm. Arthur recalled Matthew saying something about the polar bear sometimes becoming squirmy around new people.

**“Rightfully so. I presume you two have many questions about who I am and what I am. I shall answer them truthfully if you can promise me something.”**

Arthur said at a quick pace. He began thinking of ways he was going to explain who he was to these two men. Sherlock leaned in now more curious of what Arthur was getting to.

**“What is that promise?”**

Sherlock said smoothly while John could tell that something bad was going to happen. Arthur’s face darkened and he leaned over the two men. A dark shadow hung in the air giving the two humans chills that could not be explained. Arthur’s eyes had darkened and his voice became cold as ice as a scary aura surrounded him.

**“DO NOT tell a single soul about the information I am willing to share with you. My trust is one of the most valuable things you might ever have DO NOT break it. I promise that if you do you will not only have the entire British government chasing after you but every single government in the WORLD will have you names on top of their most wanted list. Your lives will be CUT DOWN. My family, friends, and I will personally run you down until there is NOWHERE to hide. NO nook and crany will be safe. Mycroft’s warning serves it’s purpose. Is that UNDERSTOOD?”**

Arthur exclaimed darkly causing John and Sherlock to pale slightly. John stuttered out a yes but Sherlock stayed silent. Arthur’s emerald eyes appeared to almost be piercing into his soul.

**“Mr. Holmes will this be a problem?”**

Arthur said while glaring directly into Sherlock's light green eyes. Sherlock shook his head and finally pushed out a reply.

**“No.”**

Arthur smiled as the area brightened and the darkness seemed to seap away.

**“Alright now. Ask away.”**

Arthur said smoothly as Kumajiro licked his face. The bear enjoyed seeing Arthur having a bit of fun for once.

**“What are you?”**

Sherlock asked immediately. Arthur looked down at Kumajiro and then at Sherlock. He frowned unable to figure out a sufficient answer.

**“Do you want me to tell you or do you want to take a guess?”**

Arthur asked knowing that Sherlock is known for his deductions. Sherlock thought to himself then began to speak again.

**“You’re not human.”**

**“No I’m not.”**

**“What the bloody hell does that mean?!”**

John stated questionably while looking to Sherlock and then to Arthur. Sherlock looked over to John with a frustrated expression. Arthur leaned back in his chair and glanced at Kumajiro who seemed to be finding the whole event confusing. Sherlock spread a hand out towards Arthur.

**“He is not human John. It’s impossible but he can’t be. His appearance and oblivious age doesn't match up. What he says and appears to be doesn't match up either. But not being human itself is impossible as well unless he is an animal. He doesn't look like an animal though!”**

Sherlock said raising the volume of his voice. Arthur clapped his hands together and smirked. He held up a finger and tapped his head.

**“No I look appear to be quite young don't I? Though, I am over one thousand years old if that clears things up.”**

Arthur said while running his fingers through his hair. John's mouth dropped open and Sherlock stayed completely silent once again.

**“Amazing.”**

John muttered under his breath and leaned back in the couch while trying to process the whole situation.

**“Impossible.”**

Sherlock said still denying the whole thing. John looked over to Arthur who blinked his emerald eyes.

**“Not impossible. There is some science behind the whole thing.”**

Arthur said calmly to try to smooth out the mess with no result. John crossed his arms and leaned forward. Then he stated something with a hushed voice.

**“Are you and alien?”**

Arthur laughed and Kumajiro rolled his eyes. Arthur never had someone ask him if he was an alien. It was usually “Are you magic?” or “Are you a spirit?”. Though the standard result was denial and most likely will always be denial. 

**“No that’s ridiculous. I’m a nation.”**

Arthur said deciding it was about time to come out with the real stuff. Sherlock and John silenced immediately.

**“A nation?”**

John questioned. Arthur sighed and thought of a way to explain it quickly. They still needed to address the situation of Matthew’s kidnap and he knew that Alfred would be showing up any minute. He had texted the American earlier that morning and he knew that Alfred would try to get there as quickly as possible since he was slightly overprotective of Matthew.

**“A personification of a nation. I am the personification of England. Matthew is the personification of Canada.”**

Arthur stated as firmly as he could. John whispered out a comment as his mind began to wrap around the whole thing.

**“I can’t believe it.”**

**“I will not believe it. Do you expect me to believe such a silly statement?”**

Sherlock said in a strong tone. Arthur had expected this type of denial from a Holmes and he wanted to get on the case as soon as possible. Arthur sighed and pulled out a small knife from inside his jacket. Sherlock and John leaned away from the weapon. Arthur rolled his eyes and held the knife out to Sherlock. Sherlock took the knife slowly and held it carefully then looked up at Arthur. 

**“Yes I do…. Now. Cut. My. Hand.”**

Arthur said and then he held out his hand.

**“Excuse me?”**

Sherlock said while turning over the knife. Arthur sighed and wiggled his fingers to show it was his real hand.

**“You heard me. Do it. I’ll heal quickly since it’s a characteristic the others and I have.”**

Arthur said while John paled.

**“Sherlock are you really going to?”**

John stammered out as Sherlock gazed at the knife. Arthur sighed and decided to try to get the show on the road. 

**“If you don’t I will.”**

Arthur said in a sing song voice while Kumajiro covered his eyes with his paws. The polar bear disliked the sight of blood. Sherlock hesitated and then he quickly cut a deep line in Arthur's palm. The nation barely flinched as dark red blood began to seep out of the wound and drip down his arm. The blood flow out of the wound quickened and then slowly the broken skin began to slowly mend together. John gasped and Sherlock dropped the knife onto the floor. 

**“That wasn’t hard was it?”**

Arthur said while wiping the blood away to reveal his now perfectly healed palm. It had healed faster than he had expected which was quite a feat. The only remains of the cut was a thin red line across his palm and the blood.

**“That must have been fake.”**

John stated as Arthur wiped away some of the blood that had dripped down his sleeve. Arthur's expression went neutral and he looked over to John.

**"You’re a doctor. Take a look.”**

Arthur held out his palm to John who took it and began looking over the disappearing mark that once was a deep cut. Sherlock picked up the bloodied knife and tried to bend it incase it was made of plastic or another material. Arthur smirked and looked over to Sherlock.

**“The knife is real Mr. Holmes.”**

Arthur commented and Sherlock looked up at Arthur with a blank expression.

**“Shall we talk about my kidnapped son now? Though he isn’t really my son I sort of took him…. It’s complicated.”**

Arthur said calmly while taking the knife from Sherlock and wiping it clean with a tissue he had produced from his pocket. He slipped the knife back into his jacket's pocket. Sherlock and John glanced at each other and with a single movement the two nodded. Arthur looked down at Kumajiro and smiled.

**“Now you can speak.”**

Arthur said sweetly to the polar bear. Kumajiro glanced over at Sherlock and John while tilting his head at the two new humans he had never met.

**“Who are you two?”**


	5. The Polar Bear

##### AN UNKNOWN STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 / 8:14 AM

Sherlock and John sat in silence staring at the polar bear that had just spoken. A polar bear. A talking polar bear had just asked them who they were and not one of them muttered a single word. Kumajiro looked up at Arthur who had a smug smile on his face. Kumajiro didn’t really care who know about his gift of speech unless the person was trusted by a nation and more specifically, Canada. The bears sighed and rubbed his coal eyes. Kumajiro still felt awful about Matthew’s disappearance but he was just a polar bear and couldn't do much in such a large city like London. Arthur could tell that explaining Kumajiro might take some more time than he had thought. John tapped Sherlock’s shoulder and muttered out a few words. 

**“Did that polar bear…. speak?”**

Kumajiro sighed and looked up at Arthur who was remaining silent. Sherlock shook his head and took a deep breath. John looked at Sherlock then to Kumajiro and Sherlock again. Arthur motioned Kumajiro to speak again. Kumajiro looked over to the two men and tried to get his question across yet again.

**“Who are you two? I haven’t got all day here.”**

Kumajiro said quickly. Sherlock and John’s expressions went blank. Kumajiro thought it was odd that himself just talking has stricken them more than Arthur being a nation. Sherlock got up slowly and left the house to get some fresh air leaving John alone with the two oddities. The door shutting snapped John out of his state and he pointed to Kumajiro.

**“You can talk.”**

John said slowly while remaining unblinking. Kumajiro jumped onto the couch and sat next to John. He placed a paw on John’s shoulder and tilted his head. John placed a hand on the bear’s head confirming that the bear was there and he was not hallucinating.

**“You haven’t answered my question.”**

Kumajiro said to John while jumping back onto Arthur’s lap and curling up into a small ball of fluff. John processed what was going on while outside Sherlock was trying to think everything over and over again. Arthur placed a hand on Kumajiro’s back and stroked the bear’s fur. Arthur motioned John to reply which he did.

**“I’m John…. The other man was Sherlock.”**

John started calmly as he heard the front door unlock. Sherlock walked back into the living room and sat back down on the green colored couch. Sherlock didn’t believe in magic and most definitely not a immortal personification of an inanimate piece of land and his talking bear. But he was on a case and in order to solve it he decided to make himself believe just until the case was over. He still was in denial but he decided to consider the possibility of these nations. Arthur most definitely acted like he had a lot of experience from the past and he healed at a faster rate than normal people. How was it possible when he cut the man’s hand it healed under a minute? Impossible but he saw it happen. Sherlock pulled himself together and looked at the bear with stern eyes. 

**“Did you see what happened?”**

Sherlock at a fast pace with a harsh voice. Kumajiro was unwavered by this. He had spent many years hearing yelling. Traveling through wars and battles with Matthew had made the both of them strong mentally, physically, and emotionally. A man like Sherlock left no effect on him. He stared directly into Sherlock’s eyes and replied in a neutral tone. 

**“Oui.”**

**“Tell us everything you can remember.”**

Sherlock said while John got ready to take down notes. Arthur remembered what Kumajiro had told him but he thought that Kumajiro might come up with more facts now. Kumajiro blinked and thought carefully of what he was going to say. He recalled everything easily. Then he got the idea of using Matthew’s real name just to see if it bothered Sherlock and John. Just for kicks.

**“I remember quite clearly. Canada and I got here in the late evening yesterday. I think around 7:40. Canada was pretty tired so we went straight to the apartment that he bought here about a year ago. It’s pretty close to some popular place called Piccadilly Circus. Later maybe around 8:00pm we both went out for dinner. Nothing out of the norm happened. I fell asleep after we left the restaurant. Next thing I know I’m locked in the car and Canada is being taken away by these guys. One was wearing all black, another all blue, and the other guy wore a fancy white suit. It was around 1:13am then. Canada looked unconscious. One of the guys was holding this thing that looked like a bat so he was probably hit over the head.”**

Kumajiro said at a slow pace. Arthur smiled as Sherlock brushed of the fact that Kumajiro had used Matthew’s real name. His nation name. John finished writing down some notes and looked at Sherlock who was in deep thought. John decided to ask the polar bear a question.

**“Did you see their faces?”**

**“No. It was still dark.”**

Kumajiro said. Sherlock opened his eyes and frowned. At 1:00 it most likely have been turning light depending where in London you were. Sherlock made a mental note to check how light it would of been on York Street. Arthur checked his cell phone and cursed on his breath. Alfred had sent him a message several minutes before that he was in a taxi and on his way over. Sherlock was about to ask another question when Arthur spoke up.

**“I must apologize but my other son is on his way here.”**

Arthur said with a depressing tone now preparing himself to deal with Alfred’s outgoing nature. Kumajiro shook his head and covered his ears. He was well aware of Alfred’s habits and tendencies that gave him the proud title of the ‘Annoying Hero’. Sherlock and John glanced at each other noticing the sudden change in Kumajiro and Arthur’s mood.

**“Other son?”**

Sherlock asked quietly. Sherlock recalled Mycroft mentioning in the car ride that Matthew had a brother that called him Mattie and no one else called him that. He presumed the two of them were close. If that brother had heard anything from Matthew the night before it could help them.

**“Alfred F. Jones is the name he is known by. Alfred is also Matthew’s twin brother and though he is older Matthew is much more mature. The two of them are quite close though Alfred overshadows Matthew with his personality.”**

Arthur said while slipping his phone back into his pocket and placing Kumajiro on the other green couch. Kumajiro snuggled up to a pillow and attempted to fall asleep before Alfred arrived. Sherlock balled up his scarf and stuffed it in his coat pocket. John looked over to Arthur and gave him a small smile. Arthur gave a weak smile in return.

**“Is he is also a…. nation?”**

Sherlock asked while attempting to not spit out a theory against their existence. Arthur crossed his arms and nodded while standing up. Arthur quickly walked over to the front door and unlocked it and then he replied calmly.

**“Yes. An annoying one to.”**

The last time Alfred had visited him the American had felt the need to break down the door instead of knocking. Arthur walked back into the living room and sat down back into his seat. 

**“What nation is he?”**

John questioned. Sherlock ran through the possibilities but he did not have enough information to make a plausible inference. Arthur frowned and thought if he should share that information but he knew that Alfred’s nation was very easy to guess from his personality. 

**“I’m sure you’ll be able to tell and it is his choice to tell you anyway. I will comment though that it was a colony at one point under Great Britain's rule. The good days.”**

Arthur said closing his eyes and smiling. He recalled the many years ago when Alfred and Matthew were small children. He enjoyed taking care of them but then he left them and once he had returned the two had grown. Alfred left soon after but Matthew stayed. Though as time passed Matthew soon departed as well. Sherlock tilted his head and looked over to John. John shrugged and then Sherlock looked over to Arthur.

**“Why did you apologize before? He might have heard something from Mr. Williams before he disappeared.”**

Sherlock said calmly. Arthur sighed and shook his head. He knew that Sherlock was correct but Alfred could be extremely stubborn. Arthur began to think that Alfred might be quite pisssed that Sherlock and John know of their true identities. 

**“Alfred has a tendency to be very loud, impatient, he curses quite a bunch…. You’ll understand once he arrives. He may be angry that you two know about us nations now as well.”**

**“I pre-”**

Sherlock began to speak only to be interrupted by the front door slamming shut and a loud voice with a clear American accent yelling.

**“IGGY WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MATTIE!?!”**


	6. Hell's Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Some torture and lots of graphic descriptions in this chapter

##### AN UNKNOWN STREET / AN UNKNOWN LOCATION / SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 / AN UNKNOWN TIME

The dingy dreadful dark room was cold as ice. A single light bulb hung on a wire from the ceiling. I fought to lit the room which was being consumed by darkness. A gruesome stench of blood stained the walls and air. Puddles of the dark liquid spread through the room. The clanging of chains could be heard clashing on the stone floors. The atmosphere felt as the same as a dungeon filled with death felt. Matthew sat in a heap on the floor with his legs crossed and chained to a heavy anchor. The Canadian's arms were tied to his back. He wore his now dirt layered khakis and his upper body was squeezed tightly by a white straight jacket that had forced upon him. Matthew's eyes were sunken in and surrounded by dark circles as he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. His glasses were bent and the left lens had been cracked. Matthew blinked his tired eyes and took a deep breath that sent pain coursing throughout his chest. His body had been bruised and healing cuts decorated his pale face. Matthew's memory was clear. His thoughts clouded with anger. Matthew had survived several hours of torture once he had been chained in Hell's Room. He couldn't tell if he was going to be able to suffer any more agonizing pain. A man that had green eyes, dark brown hair, and wore a white suit had identified himself as the top dog of the kidnapping and said his name was Martin Custis. He had an American accent that was clearly from the South. Matthew recalled that Custis had said to him that he was _'going to make him wish he was human'_ if Matthew didn't tell him the identities of all the nations. Specifically England, Russia, and Afghanistan. Matthew of course refused immediately to give any information concerning the nations, microstates, and micro nations. He felt that he rather suffer than betray his friends and family and put them in danger. Matthew also did not want to give up any random names. What is a human had the same name? He didn't want to threaten the safety of an innocent humans life. Matthew tilted his head up to hear the sound of footsteps approaching Hell's Room's door. That is what he called the room he was trapped in now after only being in it for barely a day. The Hell's Room door swung open with a clang and the white suited man, Martin Custis, walked in smoothly holding a sword. He closed the door quietly and stood about a foot from Matthew. Custis wore a smug smile that to Matthew could only mean trouble. Matthew began to build up his confidence brick by brick and pierced his violet eyes into Custis' green ones. 

**“Tell me the names Canada. I'll let you leave alive....”**

Custis said with a smirk as he ran his finger over the sword's blade. Matthew remained silent and his lips tightened into a thin line. He knew he had to stay silent and not say anything of the matter. No way in hell was he going to give in. After almost a minute of complete silence Custis sliced the blade into Matthew's skin cutting a deep line underneath his right eye down to his bottom lip. Matthew gasped, his eyes widening, as the dark red blood pooled down his face and dropped onto the white straight jacket. It was several centimeters deep and triggered thousands of pain nerves. He bit his lip as tears formed in his eyes. Matthew tried to fight of the pain as he stayed strong. The cut began to slowly heal Matthew straightened his back. The pain slowly faded as the wound became a red line down the right half of face. The blood that he had lost began to slowly dry onto his face causing discomfort.

**“Sorry, you'll have to do much worse eh?” ******

Matthew muttered angrily while preparing himself for what was to come. Custis chuckled and held up the sword in an offense position. Matthew closed his violet eyes and thought of who he was protecting. Kumajiro is his friend, pet, and security blanket. Matthew knew he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for Kumajiro. Kumajiro has been with him since the beginning and he knew that he couldn't bear hurting him in any way. Alfred is his brother. Though the two of them disagreed often Matthew cared for Alfred as a brother and deep down Alfred cared for him as a brother as well. Matthew knew the American most likely was going to be the noticed brother forever but Matthew felt like he was his own person with his own quirks. When Alfred was not focused on work and the other nations they hung out often. Arthur may of taken him from Francis and mixed up him and Alfred but Matthew could tell him cared for him. Well, that is what Matthew hoped. Matthew had his tough moments with Arthur who was not the best fatherly figure when it came to him. More specifically after the Revolutionary War when Arthur kept on mistaking him for Alfred and yelling at him until Matthew was able to convince him of his identity. Francis meant the world to Matthew. Though he lost Canada and Matthew to Arthur those many years ago Francis still constantly tried to make it up to Matthew by acting fatherly all the time. Matthew deeply appreciated that. Francis is his Papa and Matthew cares for him. The other nations are his friends and no way was he going to betray them. Matthew opened his eyes suddenly and looked down to see the sword impaled in his chest under his midriff. Pain coursed through his body as the parted skin bled. Matthew coughed, spitting out blood, and his wound began to bleed tremendously. Drips of blood ran down his lips and chest and onto the stone floor. Matthew glared up at Custis who was smirking. Custis grabbed the blade’s handle and twisted it while it remained in Matthew body. Matthew coughed up more blood and tears began to flow from his eyes. Blood poured from his body like a waterfall. After several agonizing minutes of pain Custis pulled out the sword, dropping it on the floor, and grabbed Matthew’s chin roughly. He pulled up the Canadian face to face with himself. Matthew growled and tried to pull away with no result.

**“I’m gonna cut you a deal. Tell me when your little international meeting is and I’ll let you go. But I’ll find you again and you’ll find yourself here once again.”**

**“Eh…. it’s on the 25th. If you break the deal I will kill you.”**

**“Ohoho I’m sure you will.”**

Custis said while pulling Matthew’s bloodied hair away from his violet eyes. Matthew grimaced. He knew that telling this bastard that when the meeting was dangerous. Though, it was a better option than telling where the meeting was being held. Matthew took a deep breath. He hoped he was not making the wrong decision. Custis released Matthew’s chin and he stepped back with a devilish grin plated on his face. Matthew gazed up as Custis held up the sword. He smirked and placed the blade carefully on the back of Matthew’s neck. Matthew paled realizing what was going to happen. Then Custis placed a foot on Matthew’s back forcing him to lay on the floor.

**“I thought you were going to let me go.”**

**“I never said you were going to be alive.”**

Custis said while holding the sword with two hands. Matthew took a deep breath. He closed his violet eyes and tried to distract himself from his upcoming beheading. Matthew knew the only way he was going to live through this if his head was stitched back on. Matthew recalled Francis telling him he was beheaded during the French Revolution but he had his head stitched back on and lived on. Matthew breathed out as the blade came down onto his neck, separating his head from his body. Matthew’s world vanished as his last living second ticked away.


	7. Son Of A Brit

##### AN UNKNOWN STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 / 8:37 AM

A blonde man with sky blue eyes and a pair of square framed glasses stood at the entrance of the living room. He wore a brown bomber jacket, a quite old one at that. It may of been from World War Two. Also he wore a t-shirt decorated with the American flag, blue jeans and a pair of red sneakers. His hair had a cow lick in the center and the color was quite close to Arthur’s. The man appeared extremely close to Matthew’s age. They are twin brothers so of course they would be the same age but for an odd reason this man appeared.... older. Then Sherlock and John saw that the man, Matthew's twin, looked almost like Matthew and most likely could be mistaken as him. Matthew had violet eyes, long hair and wore round framed glasses shown in the photo Mycroft had shown them. While this man had blue eyes, short hair and wore square framed glasses. Then the man’s appearance changed from angry to confused as he saw John and Sherlock seated with Arthur in the living room. Arthur frowned at the man and pointed to where Kumajiro was lying fast asleep. The man sat down on the green couch and looked over to Sherlock who wore a mischievous grin so John assumed he had figured out who this man was.

**“Who are you dudes?”**

The blonde man asked with a clear American accent. It was clear now that he was American and it sounded like his accent was more Northern than the hint of Southern that could be barley heard. Sherlock looked over the man. He usually never made mistakes when making his deductions. Sherlock took notice of the man’s posture, appearance, clothing, skin color, body type and his voice.

**“I am Sherlock Holmes, a consulting detective, and this is my friend John Watson. You are the United States of America. Alfred F. Jones. Your appearance is young but you must be extremely old. You appear laid back but get stressed and angry easily. You are very protective. I may not be able to tell.... but you have military experience but sit indoors and fill out papers. Did I get anything wrong?”**

Sherlock said with a velvet like smile. Arthur smirked to himself as Alfred sat stunned and John rolled his eyes. Sherlock could never just answer a simple question could he? Alfred nodded while sitting silently. Then he suddenly pulled out his Iphone and clicked a photo of the three. Arthur frown deeped while Kumajiro crawled onto Alfred’s lap and fell back to sleep quickly. Alfred smiled, petting the bear, and looked back to the others. His smile almost ran chills down the other's backs.

**“Iggy what the fuck happened to Mattie?”**

**“I hope you don't mind me interrupting. I'm John. Have you gotten any message from him in the past few hours?”**

**“Yeah….” ******

**“Do you mind reading it to us Mr. Jones?”**

John asked while preparing to write more notes down. Alfred nodded and pulled out his cell phone. He usually would of refused but this matter was more important than his personal conversations with his brother. He scrolled through several group chats until he was able to locate the one he had had with his brother. Alfred began to read the conversation the two of them had texted.

**\- North Bros Unite Chat-**

_HERO+1776:_ Where r u?

 _Oh Canada_ : Hell / London U?

 _HERO+1776:_ 1st Prez, D.C  & Y are u in London

 _Oh Canada:_ The meeting Al

 _HERO+1776:_ Thts in one wk. Whtcha doing?

 _Oh Canada:_ I’m eating dinner w/ Kuma  & u?

 _HERO+1776:_ Binge watching Parks ‘n Rec

 _Oh Canada:_ K, g2g, phone me 2morrow if u remember

 _HERO+1776:_ The hero always does bro

 _Oh Canada:_ No u fcking don’t. Night and let the bugs bite

 _HERO+1776:_ Ur dad is so fat that when Chris Columb thought he was the new world #burn

 _Oh Canada:_ Very funny. Goodnight Al

 _HERO+1776:_ Need some ice 4 tht burn? Morning Can Can Canadia

Alfred slipped his phone back into his jacket’s inside pocket. He smiled internally at how odd their conversations usually were. Alfred had tried to call Matthew several times but received no word from the Canadian. Then Arthur had called him while leaving a message of Matthew’s disappearance. Alfred had gotten on the first plane to London available. He had hoped dearly that his brother was okay but now he wasn’t so sure about that. John finished writing his well detailed notes and looked over to Sherlock who was in deep thought. Arthur sighed while standing up from his seat.

**“I’m going to make some tea. Alfred I assume you want coffee?”**

Arthur said while heading towards a door across the room. Alfred nodded with a wide grin. After the Boston Tea Party he barely touched tea which pissed Arthur off. Arthur opened the door and stepped inside his kitchen. It was painted with a light blue and decorated with paintings of flowers. The kitchen also included a counter, shelves, a dishwasher, freezer, fridge, and a large dinning table. Arthur considered himself a fine chef but whenever he cooked for someone else he become stressed out. Peter said he just needed to relax but Arthur didn’t like taking the micronations advice. While thinking of that Arthur recalled that he needed to re-paint Peter's room which was on the third floor of his house. The micro nation insisted he do it himself but with the upcoming meeting Arthur thought it was best left for later. Peter, of course, was staying with the other micro nations for a camping trip and was to arrive a day before the meeting. Arthur quickly made a note to ask Peter to stay with a friend that day. Arthur sighed while flicking on his tea kettle and the coffee maker causing the two to begin heating up. A he prepared the drinks Alfred, Sherlock, and John spoke silently.

**“When did you text your brother?”**

Sherlock asked Alfred who had begun to fidget. Alfred never licked being still for too long and he often got up several times during meeting no matter how important. Alfred pulled out his phone and checked to time the messages were sent. He knew the time it had been in America but he did not know what time it would have been in London. Alfred quickly did the math then re-did it to be sure. He placed his phone beside Kumajiro and crossed his arms across his lap.

**“It would of been around 12am here. I tried calling Mattie about an hour or two ago but he didn’t answer. The sick bastard that took him is gonna pay. And how did you know all about me? I don’t know a thing about you…. ”**

**“Alright. That is presumed, he was kidnapped, and it was simple. I observed you.”**

**“That. Is. Awesome. Ummm…. Did Iggs mention talking to someone called Francis?”**

**“No. Who might that be?”**

**“Mattie’s other father. Father number uno.”**

**“I thought Arthur was Mr. William’s father….”**

John said questionably. Alfred smiled while nodding to himself. Alfred supposed he might as well tell them of what really happened since the two already knew of their existence as nations. Matthew had a complicated history and family for the matter. From Matthew's few rants he could decipher that he had a few anger management problems most partially his fault from thinking he was a ghost when they were kids. Alfred couldn’t speak for Matthew since he knew the nation had a different view of the situation but he knew some things for sure. 

**“Francis, France to us, found Mattie some time many years ago. They lived together for a while but then Arthur took Mattie from Francis. It’s in the history books. Francis got the chance to take Mattie back but he didn’t. Kinda made Mattie upset. Our family is messed up…. I’m gonna talk to Iggy. Hold still.”**

Alfred said at a fast pace. He stood up and walked into the kitchen leaving them alone with Kumajiro. Alfred leaned on the door and looked up at Arthur who had just finished pouring the tea in three tea cups. Arthur placed the tea cups and one mug on a metal tray. He frowned at Alfred and then turned back to the tea. Alfred scoffed and ran his fingers through his hair. Why did he bother? Alfred stayed silent then his American smile formed.

**“Iggy. When are we gonna call France and the others?”**

**“I’ll send word to the others. The frog is a no.”**

**“He deserves to know. And if you think otherwise what do you think the others are gonna react like when they find out about those humans? Think ‘bout it Iggy.”**

**“America….”**

**“I’m gonna call him.”**

Alfred stated firmly. Arthur sighed in defeat while picking up the tray by its handles. He nodded to the door. Alfred moved to the side and opened the door. Arthur stepped back into the living room while Alfred trailed behind him. Arthur placed the tray in the center of his _‘tea table’_ and took one of the three tea cups. Alfred looked around, stepped back into the kitchen, and turned on his phone. He looked through his contacts and pressed the little green phone next to the number of a Francis Bonnefoy. He waited as the phone rang and then made a small beep.

**“Hmm, ‘ello?”**

**“France! Dude. You gotta come to Iggy’s house pronto!”**

**“Absolutely not! Why would I ever?”**

**“Mattie got kidnapped.”**

**“….”**

**“France?”**

**“I’ll be there in three minute.”**

The call ended quickly. Alfred was shocked how fast the Frenchman’s mind had changed. Alfred opened the kitchen door and walked back into the living room. Arthur and Sherlock seemed to be in conversation about Jack The Ripper and John looked bored to death while Kumajiro sleep soundly. Alfred sat back down and picked up his cell phone. He checked the time which made him realize it was almost 9:20am and he was extremely jet lagged. How could Francis say he was going to be there in three minutes if his home was at least several days away? The conversation silenced and they looked over to Alfred who had cleared his throat and stated that Francis was on his way. Alfred picked up the mug of coffee and took a gulp which gave him the realization that Arthur had given him decaf coffee. Arthur’s frown sank and he leaned back in his chair. The two, Francis and Arthur, have been friends / enemies for years. Centuries even. John checked his watch while Sherlock crossed his arms across his lap. Then there was a knock at the door. Everyone's heads turned as the door opened and shut with a silent click. A light blonde haired man with crystal blue eyes, hairs on his chin, and a velvet grin stepped into the living room. The man wore a blue jacket, a red scarf, red pants, and a white t-shirt decorated with painted on red roses. Alfred silly smile widened while Arthur’s mood immediately decreased. John and Sherlock sat in silence. The man noticed them and walked over to where they were seated. He shook their hands and spoke with a thick French accent.

**“Bonjour. I am Francis Bonnefoy. Who might you two be?”**

Francis then sat down next to Alfred and smiled as the two humans introduced themselves to the Frenchman. Alfred whispered to Francis, telling him that the two knew of their true identities, causing Francis to grin a mischievous grin. Arthur rolled his eyes.

**“I was in the area which is how I got here so quickly. What happened Angleterre?”**

**“Matthew disappeared this early morning. Kumajiro saw him being kidnapped.”**

**“Oh…. Do the police know of this?”**

**“They have not been notified.”**

The conversation continued of the same topic as John checked his cellphone. Earlier he had messaged Lestrade to look for the security tapes from the morning. Lestrade had just sent him a message saying he had the tapes available at Scotland Yard. John slipped his phone back in his pocket after replying and he stood up. Sherlock and the others looked up to him apart from Kumajiro who was still asleep.

**“The security tape from this morning is at Scotland Yard. Should we go now?”**

John asked while the others nodded in agreement. The group decided to leave the sleeping polar bear there in order to not catch unwanted attention. One by one they left Arthur’s house through the front door, which Arthur immediately locked, to see a silver Honda Civic parked on the street. Francis pulled out a pair of car keys, unlocked the car, and slipped into the front seat. Alfred, John, and Sherlock sat in the back seats while Arthur sat beside Francis. The engine came to life and they began their journey down the road to Scotland Yard.


	8. International Anger

##### SCOTLAND YARD / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 / 10:13 AM

A silver Honda Civic pulled up to a large building. The building appeared quite modern with a plaque on one side scribed with the words _Scotland Yard_. A middle aged man stood next to Scotland Yard’s entrance. He wore a black coat, white linen shirt, and black suit pants. His hair was a grey-ish brown and his face was painted with a tired expression. Sherlock, John, Alfred, Arthur, and Francis stepped out of the car. Francis locked his car and the group walked up to the tired man. He seemed surprised at the number of people in the group. Sherlock walked directly into the building while the others remained outside. The tired man spoke. 

**“Who are these men John?”**

**“This is Alfred, Arthur, and Francis. They are relatives of the victim in this case, Lestrade.”**

John explained while pointing from Alfred, Arthur, and Francis one by one. Lestrade shook their hands while introducing himself quickly. Then he led them inside the building. The building was full of offices and people running about the light colored floors. They walked down a hall until John spotted Sherlock. He pulled the detective away from his argument with Donovan and Anderson quickly. The group sauntered down several hallways when they finally approached a blue door at the end of a hidden hall. Lestrade unlocked the door with a key card and the group stepped inside. The room was barely lit and in the center was a pair of large screens set up on a table with one computer sitting beside them. Lestrade pulled up a chair and turned on the computer while slipping a disk into it. The group circles behind him so everyone who get a view of the footage. After inputting a code the computer screen lit up and a single paused picture of a lonely red fiat lying parked on a dark street. Lestrade sighed and played the video which showed no sign of sound. The group watched in silence as Matthew struggled with his attackers. Arthur looked away as Matthew was knocked out and thrown into the white van. Sherlock quickly paused the video as the white suited man stepped out of the van. He zoomed in on the man's face and turned to the nations. Sherlock pointed at the man's face with his left hand's index finger.

**“Do any of you recognize this man?”**

Arthur stepped up closer and looked over the white suited man. He saw no familiar features and didn't think the man worked anywhere in the UK for the matter. Arthur shook his head while crossing his arms. Francis, as well, did not recognize the man either. Alfred leaned in closer and widened his sky blue eyes. This man. He knew this guy. 

**“Holy fucking shit I know this dude!”**

Alfred exclaimed loudly startling everyone. His voice was filled with anger and he took several steps backwards. Alfred's fists balled up and his lips tightened in a thin line. Lestrade opened another file on the computer and looked over to Alfred. 

**“Who is he?”**

**“Martin Thomas Custis. Top security guard at the White House….”**

Alfred growled while texting his boss to keep an eye out for Custis. He couldn't believe that someone he knew could do this to his own brother. How dare he? Lestrade imputed the name into a search bar and after a minute Custis' profile popped up. Lestrade, Sherlock, and John spoke to each other of their next steps while the nations grouped together across the room. Arthur placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder as the nation fumed.

**“Alfred. You alright lad?”**

**“Hell no.”**

**“Amérique, we will find Mathieu.”**

**“Will we now frog?”**

**“Tread lightly Arthur... Mathieu is in danger as we speak.”**

Francis said while placing a hand on Arthur's and Alfred's shoulder. Arthur huffed and ran his fingers through his blonde hair. John turned to the nations and smiled weakly.

**“Is meeting here around 8:30am tomorrow good?”**

John asked as Lestrade and Sherlock began to replay the footage. Arthur nodded and the three nations left the room quickly. Francis and Arthur stood on each side of Alfred as they walked out of Scotland Yard. Francis unlocked his car and the three slipped inside silently. Alfred sat alone in the back while Arthur sat in the front with Francis driving beside him. Francis began driving the car back to Arthur’s home silently. Alfred steamed in the back with anger while texting his boss while Francis annoyingly hummed his national anthem. Arthur stared out the window questioning why something as this happened. Why here? Why now? Why Matthew? Arthur snapped out of his trance as the car came to a screeching stop and Francis jumped out of the car quickly while leaving the door wide open. Arthur yelled after him but Francis was concentrated on something across the street. Alfred and Arthur sat silently for several minutes until Francis walked back with a struggling white furry creature in his arms. Francis stepped back into the car and handed the creature to Alfred. It was Kumajiro. Alfred hugged the polar bear to his chest as the car continued down the road at a smooth pace. Kumajiro had gotten extremely bored and wandered away from Arthur’s home. Francis took a deep breath and looked over to Arthur as they pulled up to the British man’s home. Francis locked the doors and crossed his arms across his chest.

**“What now Angleterre?”**

**“We hold a meeting.”**

Arthur said while unbuckling his seat belt. Francis unlocked the doors, opened the door beside him, and steeped out of the car. He pressed the lock button on his car key as the nation's walked back into Arthur’s large home. As they entered Kumajiro slipped out of Alfred’s arms and ran into the living room. Alfred huffed while crossing his arms as Francis chucked. Arthur walked down a hallway as Francis and Alfred trailed behind. They walked down a stairway and encountered a large wooden door. Arthur swung the door open the door open to reveal a huge dark room with an almost movie theater sized screen attached to the back wall. A long table was set up a few feet in front of the screen with several seats beside it. Arthur motioned them to sit down while he headed over to several modern looking machines. He fiddled with a few buttons until the large screen turned on and began to make a large ringing noise. Arthur sat between Francis and Alfred as they waited. Then a window appeared on the screen depicting the upper half of an extremely annoyed black haired Chinese man with his hair tied in a ponytail wearing a red mandarin jacket. The man was seated in what appeared to a cushioned chair with bamboo stacked on the wall behind him. He rolled his eyes and motioned two other individuals to join him. A younger man wearing a light blue kimono pulled up a chair to the older man’s right while a smiling female sat to the older man’s left. The young woman wore a peach colored qipao had a wild curly strand sticking out on the right side of her head.

**“Hello China, Japan, and Taiwan. I’m glad the three of you could join us. All of you are looking well.”**

England said with a velvet tone. Kiku gave a small nod as Alfred broke out in laughter at Yao’s exhausted expression. Yao stuck his tongue out at Alfred and then told Arthur that joining in on the meeting was not problem. Xiao smiled and crossed her arms across her lap. She asked if any other nations were joining them and then, ironically, another group of nations joined the chat. Another window appeared on the screen taking up the right half of the screen while Yao’s window filled the left half of the screen. Two twins, one with light brown and the other with dark brown hair, had joined the meeting. The light haired man wore a small smile while the dark haired one wore a weak frown. Kiku waved at the light haired man who waved back while slipping on a pair of round glasses so he could see better. The two twins wore the exact same outfit which was a white t-shirt depicting the Italian flag and dark blue sweat pants.

**“North and South Italy. Glad the two of you could make it on such short notice.”**

**“Yeah yeah…. this better be important. Vene and I were cooking pasta.”**

Lovino said while wrapping an arm around Veneziano’s shoulder causing the younger twin to grin while he cleaned his smudged glasses with a white cloth. The eight nations talked of little things going on in their personal lives as one by one other groups of nations joined the meeting. In enough time new groups of nations such as [Russia, Belarus, Ukraine,] [Germany, Austria, Gilbert, Hungary,] [Belgium, Netherlands, Spain,] [Norway, Denmark, Iceland, Sweden, and Finland,] had joined the meeting. After everyone had settled down Arthur stood up from his set slowly and gulped. He could not perceive what the nation’s reactions were going to be but it most definitely was going to be angry and loud. The nations on the screen silenced as Arthur raised a hand and thought of ways to deliver the news. He spoke with a firm voice as Alfred began to record the whole thing with his Iphone:

_Arthur:_ **“It is with my deepest regret to tell of this event that took place in my own nation. *Sigh*…. Matthew Williams, Canada, was kidnapped by an unknown group of men. Which only one of three has been identified. His current condition and where abouts are unknown. I please ask that if anyone has heard from him to please speak up. If any of you are currently in the United Kingdom I ask you depart to your own nation in terms of safety.”**

He sat back in his seat and stared down at the floor. He felt almost ashamed that something such as this happened in his own nation. The other nations were silent as blank faces looked on. Several nations seemed to be processing what Arthur had said while the others murmured silent thoughts to themselves. Alfred continued to film as the balloon suddenly popped. The nations began to yell and as their words were scrambled with others.

_Gilbert:_ **“BIRDIE HAS BEEN FUCKING KIDNAPPED?! MEIN GOTT!!!”**

_Veneziano:_ **“Inferno cazzo this is awful!”**

_Katyusha:_ **“Why would someone do this?!”**

_Mathias:_ **“Holy Odin. That motherFUCKING SUCKS!”**

_Ivan:_ **“This is the worst, da? Who’s fault is it? I vote England!”**

_Kiku:_ **“How did this happen?”**

_Yao:_ **“You Westerners need to keep streets safer!”**

_Berwald:_ **“Isn’t th’s b’d Ice?”**

_Emil:_ **“Um, Já….”**

_Xiao:_ **“Whoever did this iS GONNA PAY!”**

_Anri:_ **“We shouldn't be yelling. Right brother?”**

_Abel:_ **“I guess so….”**

_Natalya:_ **“Matvy is too sensitive to go through something like this….дзярмо!”**

_Elizaveta:_ **“EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!”**

Every nation immediately silenced as Elizaveta glared coldly at everyone apart from Arthur, Francis, and Alfred who was still videoing the whole event. Ludwig, Roderich, and Gilbert who sat beside the Hungarian had gone completely pale. Anger was spread across her face. Arthur looked up as she cleared her throat loudly gathering attention. Gilbert snickered silently which resulted in a slap on the head from Elizaveta. She spoke with a calm voice as silent conversations were ended.

**“Before we all act more harshly than we already have let us hear the entire story. England do you mind?”**

**“Not at all, Hungary, thank you. From what Kumajiro has told us Canada was knocked out by two men. From the security tape we were able to see that their leader is an American named….”**

**“Martin T. Custis.”**

**“Martin Custis…. yes. Thank you America. If anyone has any helpful information at all it would be appreciated.”**

Arthur said with a calmer tone than before. Nations looked to other nations as they looked through their cellphones and computers. Finally after several minutes Antonio raised a hand after slipping his phone back into his pocket. Francis smirked and pointed a finger at him. The Frenchman spoke with a velvet voice. 

**“What is it mon bon ami?”**

**“Mr. Canada texted me around 11am where you are. It was only about the meeting though. Nada más….”**

Antonio said. His usually cheery smile had been brutally replaced with a stiff frown. Arthur nodded while Francis checked the time with a weak smile. It was almost 10 pm. Alfred continued filming everyone until his actions were pointed out by Tino. Tino leaned in the screen and smiled at Alfred while speaking.

**“What are you doing America?”**

**“Filming. Duh. Mattie gonna wanna know what happened.”**

**“Are you sure about that? Hmmmm. It’s late. If anyone has new information we should re-open another meeting. For now…. I’m tired but I’ll talk to my boss later.”**

Lukas said while rolling his eyes and Mathias’ happy nature considering the situation. The other nations agreed. Arthur reminded the nations to email him any information if found. Alfred stopped filming and waved at the screen as the groups as nations vanished. Several shared hopeful comments while others attempted to join the fight but Arthur thought the less the nations involved the better. Shortly after only Elizaveta’s group remained on the screen. Ludwig looked uncertain of what he was to say but he spoke with a clear voice.

**“Are you sure extra assistance is not needed?”**

**“Certain.”**

**“They will be fine. Scheiße, ich bin müde….”**

Roderich said while he said turning taking them off of the chat. The large screen now went completely dark. The nations sat in the dark silently as Arthur stood and turned off the large screen. They left the room, walked back up the stairs, and down the hall. They returned to the living room as their thoughts wandered about. Francis picked up Kumajiro who was on the green couch and stood beside the living room’s entrance. Alfred sat down on the couch while Arthur returned to his favorite chair. The two looked up to Francis who was tapping his foot on the floor. He looked up at them and wore a slim smile.

**“Is there a hotel nearby?”**

**“Yes but it’s unnecessary for you to go to one.”**

**“Excusez-moi?”**

**“My home has several guest rooms you may stay in…. Alfred you can sleep in your old room.”**

**“Ohonhon…. Arthur are you being kind? Amérique you should film in this.”**

**“Don’t test me frog.”**

**“Hmmpf. Iggs you got food or are we gonna go out?”**

Alfred asked. Arthur scoffed and stood up as Alfred laughed his ass off. The three nations went into the kitchen and began to prepare dinner. Alfred sat at the dining table while playing Flappy Bird game which he saved before it was taken off of the app store. After several arguments Arthur left Francis alone to do the cooking and sat down beside Alfred. In about half an hour of waiting the group finally ate a salad that Francis had quickly put together. Francis immediately began to praise how good French cooks were compared to the English which sparked an argument between Arthur and himself. Alfred, of course, got the entire event on video.


	9. It's Alive!

##### ST BARTHOLOMEW'S HOSPITAL / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 16, 2020 / 7:31 AM

##### 

A young woman with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail walked down a brick sidewalk. Her eyes were a light brown and a bright smile was plastered on her face. She wore a long white jacket, a bright purple turtle neck, long dark green pants, a hand bag slung across her shoulder, and a pair of blue sneakers. The young woman walked into a large building titled with the words _St Bartholomew’s Hospital_. She waved at the woman running the front desk while clipping a name tag onto the pocket of her white coat. The young woman smiled to passing nurses and doctors as she walked down several hallways. The walls were painted light colors and the halls were full of carts, stretchers, and people of all kinds. The young woman worked as a pathologist in the hospital’s morgue and though her job got rough sometimes she couldn’t be any happier. The young woman walked into a employee locker room and opened locker 134 that had the name MOLLY HOOPER written on it with red sharpie. She opened the padlock, slipped her bag inside, and then relocked the padlock keeping her hand bag safe. Molly walked out of the locker room and checked the time on her cell phone. It was seven forty-five. She gasped realizing she was late and began to run down several halls to her destination. Three minutes later she finally reached the morgue section of the hospital. Molly stopped running once she approached two large glass doors while gasping for breath. An older man, her boss, handed her a folder while telling her to collect DNA samples from the corpse so the police could identify the dead man. Molly nodded and entered the morgue. She walked down a short hallway that was painted grey while opening the folder. Molly’s smile twisted as she observed the photos of a dead young man with several graphic injuries and his head was clearly separated from the rest of his body. Reading a unorganized sheet of paper in the folder she learned that the unidentified man had been delivered to the hospital by an anonymous figure yesterday night. Molly opened a wooden door and stepped into a large recently cleaned room. The walls and floors were a blue-ish white and several metal tables were lined up across the room. A desk sat next to the doors and the right wall was lined with coffin sized metal drawers that were locked. Several carts full of medical tools, microscopes and a long counter were set up at the end of the room. An unnecessary amount of cupboards lined the walls containing different bottles and other objects. Molly placed the folder on her desk and took out a pair of blue latex gloves from a box that was attached to the wall. While sighing tiredly walked over to one of the metal tables that supported a large black body bag. Molly opened the bag and looked at the young man’s pale uninjured body. The young man's skin was a pale white, his head was gone, and his lower half was covered with a white sheet. Molly walked across the room and while grabbing a black box with one hand she grabbed a metal cart’s handle with the other. Molly walked back to the metal table holding the cadaver and set the box on the edge. She rolled the cart full of medical tools that contained a device that she could collect the man’s DNA with to the end of the table. Molly frowned as she opened the box and carefully took out the man’s head while wearing a blank expression. His hair was a light blonde and his eyes were closed. She placed the head beside the man’s neck and turned around while placing the black box onto another table. She grabbed the DNA kit and took the samples that would be needed to identify the man. Molly sealed the samples in a plastic bag and walked over to the right wall and unlocked one of the coffin shaped drawers. She gently placed the samples in the drawer for safekeeping and then she re-locked the metal drawer. Walking back to the table, she picked up the head and looked at the cut that had beheaded the man. From a simple observation she could tell that the cut was made by a sword and must have been wielded with immense strength. Molly placed the head back onto the table while taking a deep breath. After thinking for a short amount of time she decided to stitch the head back onto the body, not because she was required to do so, but she thought it would be easier to transport the man’s body if his head was attached. Molly picked up a needle from the medical cart and tied a long thread to the needle. The young man’s head was soon reattached stitch by stitch and after a few minutes more Molly stepped back while placing the needle back onto the cart. She began to have a deep feeling that something was wrong that settled in her gut. Molly walked back to her desk and picked up the folder. Flicking through the photos once again Molly saw the man’s injuries. Her face paled as she turned around to face the metal tables. The young man lying on the metal table was completely clear of any sign of injuries apart from a long red slit across his throat were she had sewn the head back on. Molly gulped and shook her head while tying to organize her thoughts. It was as if the man’s injuries had just disappeared completely in the time he had been brought to the hospital. Molly placed the folder back on the desk and she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She then took a few steps toward the body and snapped a picture of the cadaver. After making sure the photo was not blurred she sent the photo to Sherlock with the caption ‘this man somehow healed’ and she slipped the phone back into her pocket. Suddenly the man’s eyes shot open and he gasped while sitting up. Molly let out a scream and jumped backwards. The young man took deep breaths and widened his noticeable violet eyes. He looked to Molly who was paralyzed with shock. The now alive young man looked down at the white sheet covering his lower half and blushed. Molly stared at him as she attempted to stir up any thoughts at all. The young man pulled the white sheet up and over his chest while smiling weakly. The young man then spoke to Molly with a clear Canadian accent. 

**“Sorry. This is going to take a lot of explaining.”**


	10. It's Your Fault

##### ST BARTHOLOMEW'S HOSPITAL / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 16, 2020 / 8:10 AM

Molly stood silently across the room from the young man who had just come back from the dead after being beheaded and who knows what else. He twiddled his thumbs and looked around the room that he had just woken in. Without his glasses everything was extremely blurry to the point where he was on the verge of not being able to tell apart colors from actual objects. The young man could barely distinguish Molly from everything else in the room. The young man and Molly stood and sat silently in the room as their thoughts wandered. None of them could tell where this event was going. Molly finally broke the silence after thinking of what to say. 

**“Who the hell are you?”**

**“Eh, my name is Matthew Williams. Who are you?”**

**“…. Molly Hooper.”**

**“Nice to meet you. You are taking this better than most people…. Ummm where are my cloths? It’s kinda embarrassing sitting here only wearing a sheet. Sorry….”**

**“Oh. True. They should be somewhere around here.”**

Molly said softly to herself while gazing around the room. She then spotted a plastic container in the corner of the room that she had not noticed before. Molly ran over to it and picked up the container of cloths that also included a pair of round glasses. She handed it to Matthew whose face appeared red from embarrassment. Molly walked across the room and faced the wall as he changed. She did not want the situation to become more weird than it was already was. Matthew quickly dressed, slipped his glasses on, and stepped off of the metal table. He blinked his violet eyes and looked over to Molly who was much easier to see now. He glared down at the floor and crossed his arms across the chest. Matthew remembered everything. Custis was sure to make contact with him again and he didn’t want to be around anyone when that happened. Matthew couldn’t risk getting anyone hurt or any nations other than himself identified. He couldn’t think of being the cause of death for his friends, family, or any innocent person he came upon. Matthew looked up and smiled weakly.

**“Sorry, eh…. for the disturbance.”**

**“Can I turn around?”**

**“O-oh! S-sorry, yes of course.”**

Matthew stuttered out. He began to tap his foot on the floor which was a habit he had when he became stressed out. Molly turned around and now faced the fully clothed Canadian. Molly walked up to him and saw the noticeable height difference between them. He was almost taller than Sherlock which surprised her. Matthew smiled while stuffing his hands in his coat’s pockets. Molly felt her phone buzz four times but she did not take it out from her pocket. The two stood silently for several minutes until Molly spoke up once again. 

**“Are you human?”**

**“I don’t want to risk endangering you. So for now assume I am human. Sorry.”**

**“Is someone hunting you down?”**

**“In a way…. yes.”**

**“I am going to call the police.”**

**“Eh?! Please don't! I have to get as far away from her as possible so no one else gets hurt. I can not risk getting my family endangered or anyone else. What I’m wrapped up in is bigger than it seems and I need to get away from here if it’s going to get dealt with. You don’t have to trust me but I can assure you that if I stay here any longer people are going to get hurt…. I don’t want that.”**

**“Alright…. I told my friend well not my friend but more of an acquaintance…. Well he knows about you now and he might be on his way here. Wait. I have an idea.”**

Molly grabbed a roll of grey duct tape from under her desk and tossed it to Matthew. He looked at the duct tape in his hand as Molly walked over to the medical cart and placed her left hand on the handle. She thought over her plan several times but decided it was for the best. It wasn’t meant to work but to give Matthew enough time to get away. That was good enough. 

**“Tape my hand to the cart’s handle.”**

**“Eh? What? Why?”**

**“When my frien- acquaintance arrives here you have to be long gone. I’ll serve as a buffer and that will most definitely give you enough time to get far from here.”**

**“…. Thank you Ms. Hopper. I owe you.”**

**“No problem Williams. Uh…. maybe when you’ve dealt with your problem you can explain how you are alive. You do owe me.”**

**“Eh, sure. Why not….”**

Matthew said with a sweet smile. Molly felt an odd sense of calmness with him which she took note of. Matthew wrapped the duct tape tightly around her left hand. He asked her if it caused any pain but Molly felt nothing much except for some pressure on her knuckles. Matthew gave Molly a quick hug and ran at an inhuman pace out of the room. He was much faster than anyone she had ever seen. Shortly after he had departed Molly quickly brought out her cell phone. She rolled her eyes as she read the texts that Sherlock had messaged her.

\- From: Sherlock Holmes -  
_Sherlock:_ DO NOT ALLOW HIM TO ESCAPE IT IS IMPORTANT TO MY CASE.  
_Sherlock:_ I AM ON MY WAY.  
_Sherlock:_ Why are you ignoring my messages?  
_Sherlock:_ MOLLY.

Molly sighed and slipped her phone into her white coat’s right pocket. Molly leaned on the cart and looked up at the ceiling. One day. That’s all she wanted. One day with no problems, no mystery, no weirdness and no Sherlock. In the most recent years he had gotten on her nerve more than once. Asking to examine or perform experiments on her assigned victims' bodies was annoying enough. But sometimes she just wondered why she put up with people. The dead were much more peaceful except when they weren't. Suddenly the door burst open. Molly jumped and twisted her head around to see Sherlock, John, Lestrade and three other blonde men entering the room. Sherlock and the other men looked around wildly as if their life depended on it while John ran over to her. Lestrade stood at the room's entrance while speaking on a cell phone. Molly was stunned. John tried to remove the duct tape barely tearing the grey material. Molly felt a hand grab her shoulder from behind and then the person spun her around. She whimpered quietly as her left arm was twisted behind her back painfully. Sherlock’s gaze was colder than ice. His grip on her shoulder tightened as he shook her roughly. The three other blonde men gathered behind the detective. One of the blonde men was shorter than the others, another wore a red scarf, and the third one who resembled Matthew but wore square spectacles and carried a small blue backpack. Anger, sadness, and confusion could be seen inscribed in their eyes like a message on a stone tablet. Molly gulped as a wave of fear overcame her senses. She recalled what Matthew had said about protecting his friends, family, and any innocent bystanders. That was enough motivation. All she had to do was be the dam between the river to give him a spare few minutes. Molly bit her lip in attempt to block the pain that coursed through her arm. Sherlock spoke to her in a cold voice filled with no emotion but anger.

**“Where is the body?”**

**“I don’t know he’s gone!”**

**“You…. you're bluffing. Where is he?”**

**“I do not know! Let me go yOU ASSHOLE!”**

**“Not until yo-”**

**“-Sherlock FOR GOD’S SAKE YOU ARE HURTING HER!”**

John yelled to Sherlock as he attempted to cut through the thick layer of duct tape with a pair of medical scissors. Sherlock expression went blank as he immediately released Molly. She twisted her arm out of the uncomfortable position causing another jolt of pain to course through her nerves. The blonde man that was shorter than the others walked over to her and tore the tape with no effort. Molly peeled the tape off her hand quickly and straightened her back. She held her arm which felt as if the bones had been broken but she knew that could not of been the case. She glanced up to a clock that hung above her desk to see that it had been almost ten minutes since Matthew had left. That seemed like enough time.

**“Apologizes Molly. It was not my intention to injure you….”**

Sherlock said with a calm tone that seemed to be filled with no emotion. She huffed. Her plate had enough on it an another emotionless apology was unnecessary. Molly walked across the room to her desk and pulled out a black notebook from one of the desk’s drawers. This was her Pissed Of Notebook. A notebook where she wrote about things that pissed her off and almost 50% of the content referred to daily events. Molly wrote about the event that had just occurred inside the notebook and then she slipped the it back into her desk drawer. The blonde man with long hair walked up to her smoothly and stuck out his hand which she shook. He spoke with a thick French accent.

**“Bonjour Madame, I am Francis Bonnefoy. The shorter blonde is Arthur Kirkland and the young man with glasses is Alfred F. Jones. I understand you must be quite annoyed with us at this time but it would be lovely if you could tell us what happened to the body. That would be extremely kind and details included of course.”**

**“*Sigh* I was told to collect DNA samples earlier which I most definitely did. In terms of health the body was in good shape, except for his head, and all his wounds were…. healed. I stitched his head back on and then a couple of minutes later he was alive. We talked, I got him to duct tape my hand to the cart to serve as a distraction, and then he left. He’s long gone by now. Umm…. I should mention that he said if anyone came in contact with him they would be in a potential danger. I don’t know why though….”**

Molly said. She picked up the folder she had been given and held it in her right hand. John finished taking several notes while Sherlock mumbled a few things under his breath. John tucked his notepad in his jacket and left the room quickly. Francis and Arthur were silent and unmoving which seemed quite creepy. Then Alfred spoke with a voice stricken with fear and anger.

**“D-did you say somethin’ about stitching my brother’s head back on?”**

The room fell silent apart from Lestrade who was still on a phone call. The men turned to Molly who felt as if she had triggered several unwanted emotions. She nodded slowly with a grave expression and handed Alfred the folder. He looked at it confusingly.

**“I would not look at the photos now…. if I were you.”**

Molly said as Alfred stuffed the folder in his blue backpack. The American slung the bag over his shoulder and balled his fists in attempt not to get extremely angry. Which did seem to be failing. She felt a light tap on her shoulder. Molly turned her head to see John holding an ice packet.

**“You might want to put that where it hurts and your arm appears to be fine.”**

**“Thank you.”**

Molly said at a quiet tone. She placed the ice packet on her shoulder. While the cold numb feeling began to take over her shoulder Lestrade hung up his call with a neutral expression. He walked up to the group and tapped his foot. 

**“Mr. Williams has been spotted near two locations which are the London Eye and Piccadilly Circus. I suggest we break into groups and Molly you are coming. You did let him go.”**

**“I will go alone since there are seven of us. Group one will be Francis, Sherlock, and Miss Hooper. Group two will be Alfred, John, and Lestrade. Group one will go to the Eye and two will go to the Circus. I will go anywhere around the areas of the two locations. Is everything understood?”**

Arthur said firmly. Everyone nodded in agreement apart from Molly who was upsetted from the fact that they were pulling her away from her job. Arthur headed out of the room and was followed by Alfred’s group. Molly tossed the ice pack into a waste basket beside her desk and pulled off her gloves. Francis spoke first as Molly tossed the gloves away.

**“Should I call you Molly or Mlle Hooper? You may call me Francis.”**

**“Molly is fine. Thank you for asking.”**

**“D'accord. Shall we go?”**

Francis said with a velvet smile. He walked to the door as Molly and Sherlock trailed behind him. The trio left the building and headed over to a silver Honda Civic. Francis opened the doors and looked to Molly with a smile.

**“Ladies first, oui?”**


	11. Early Bird

##### PALACE STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 16, 2020 / 9:02 AM

The sky was a light blue color sprinkled with light grey clouds. A light breeze blew through the air rustling tree leaves as the British nation passed by. Arthur walked down a crowded street filled with people of all types and sizes. After the several groups had separated he decided to walk over to Big Ben and continue to search around the area. Arthur stuffed his hands into the pockets of his signature green jacket. He gazed around as time passed by slowly. Finding Matthew was now on the top of his to do list. Deep inside he could tell Matthew held several grudges against him which could be because some of the credit that the British took from the Canadian troops during World War One. Though he understood another grudge was more likely about what happened after the Revolutionary War. After mistaking him for Alfred several times he shot Matthew with a muskat while drunk causing the nation to now have a small scar on his midriff. Arthur knew Matthew would maybe will never forgive him for that fatal mistake. But after apologizing more than once the Canadian tucked it away in the back of his mind. Though Matthew was an unnoticeable person he had made it a habit to stay quite passive-aggressive around other nations. A long time ago there was a secret bet for whoever could anger the Canadian which turned out to be a big mistake. Matthew rarely got angry and when he did you would not want to be there to see. Once when someone had insulted Francis to the point where the nation was in tears Matthew became so pissed that he even gave Sweden chills. No one messed with him ever again nor wanted to. Arthur squinted his eyes as the sun appeared behind a passing cloud. The British nation felt a light tap on his shoulder. Turning around Arthur saw Mycroft standing beside him wearing a black coat while holding a umbrella. Arthur frowned and continued to walk down the street. This was not the time for this. Mycroft walked beside him in a calm manner that could only mean business. Arthur glanced at the umbrella and spoke with a firm voice. 

**“I do not believe it is going to rain today, Mycroft.”**

**“The weather channel said otherwise.”**

**“I know quite clearly what the weather will be. I’m busy Mycroft. This better be significant.”**

**“Mr. Williams has been seen again.”**

**“Where?”**

**“In a black car driving past the Natural History Museum. Men have already been sent to the area.”**

**“I do not like that Mycroft. Matthew must be filled with several emotions at the moment. If your men approach him I can’t tell what will happen.”**

**“I have taken that into account. They were warned.”**

**“Hmmpf.”**

**“Sir Kirkland I assume you still have concerns?”**

**“Go back to work and notify me if Matthew is found.”**

Arthur said while taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. Mycroft turned around and walked in the opposite direction as Arthur was headed. The British Man walked down several sidewalks while his thoughts wandered. The sky now was more clear and less grey clouds could be seen floating about. Arthur felt quite peaceful considering the events that had been taking place. He walked into a metro station called Victoria Station and made his way through a crowded hall. He bought a metro ticket for 9:33 and walked down more crowded halls. He waited for the train car to appear and then he entered through the sliding doors. Arthur stood silently while gripping a metal pole as the the tube began to move. The tube was full of people but Arthur never minded that. After two stops he got off the train car when he heard the signature voice say _mind the gap_. The area was quite dim but Arthur recognized the name of the station painted on the wall. South Kensington Station. The sound of many footsteps could be heard almost everywhere. Arthur smiled and made his way out of the station and into the sunny street. He checked his watch to see it was 9:44 which meant he only had to walk for several minutes to get to the museum. Arthur’s thoughts were blank until he finally reached the Natural History Museum after only five minutes. Before Arthur made his next decision of what to do at the moment his phone began to buzz in his pocket. Arthur sat down on a bench beside a large tree. Taking out his cellphone he saw the caller’s number. Arthur groaned and answered the call. This day was about to get interesting. 

**“Peter, lad, I’m busy. What is it?”**

**“Do you know what blood type I am?”**

**“Yes of course. Why poppet?”**

**“Wellllll…. I shattered a bone in my arm when I fell out of this really tall tree. Wendy told me not to climb the tree but I did anyway but I don't regret it. It was cool at first when I fell because it was like slow motion until I started bleeding on the floor. Leonardo fainted and that was funny. But then it wasn’t.”**

Peter said at a quick pace. Arthur closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. Peter was a close family member to him which he most definitely cared for but sometimes Peter ran him up the walls. When the two of them weren't arguing they shared some fond memories. The micro nation had some promise in life but Arthur thought nothing of it until Peter would decide to act mature for once. Though Arthur understands Peter is a fairly young personification which meant he had to be taken care of carefully. The power Peter had was more clear to the British nation now than when he had first found the micro nation. Arthur ran his fingers through his hair and opened his eyes. He thought for a moment about what blood type the micro nation was until he recalled that the two of them shared the same blood type. 

**“Your blood type is O.”**

**“Awesome! Thanks England.”**

**“Do you need to be picked up from where you are?”**

**“Nah. I’m gonna take a train. I’ll probably be released from the hospital later today and I’ll get to London tomorrow morning. That ok?”**

**“Hmm. Send me a message of which station you will be arriving at and I’ll pick you up from there. Be safe lad.”**

**“I know. Stranger danger and yadda yadda. What color cast should I get?”**

**“Blue or green if they are an options.”**

**“Coolio Jerkland. I like the color blue. I’ll email you later.”**

**“Alright, cheers. Bye Sealand.”**

**“Bye bye.”**

Peter said with a chipper tone. Arthur hung up the call as he tucked his cellphone away into his green jacket’s inside pocket. The nation looked around with tired eyes. Arthur mumbled to himself about health insurance while standing up slowly. He walked past the museum and stuffed his hands back into his pockets. After he looked both ways Arthur crossed the street quickly. The day passed by slowly was the nation walked down silent streets to bustling areas. The sky soon began to darken as a tall clock tower chimed nine times. Arthur had walked a few miles more until he stopped at a small park. His phone buzzed once. Arthur pulled out his phone and checked the screen. Francis had sent him a text that they had found Matthew's handkerchief, cellphone and Alfred’s group found Matthew’s necklace. They had decided to meet at Scotland Yard around 11:00 am the next day. Arthur sighed realizing he was the only one who hadn't found anything and walked down a street. He waved to a passing taxi which he entered after it rolled up beside him. After telling the driver his address the ride back home began. The sky was almost completely pitch black by the time he had reached home. The moon and stars shimmered lightly in the dark sky clouded by darkened clouds. Arthur paid the driver extra than the real cost of the ride and walked up to the door of his lovely home. He unlocked the front door and entered the comfort of home. After locking the front door he wiped the bottom of his shoes on the welcome mat beneath his feet leaving two smudges of mud. Arthur stepped into the living room to see Francis and Alfred sound asleep on one of his green couches. The nation silently picked up a large blanket he kept in the room that was designed with a world map. He pulled it over the two nations gently so they were not awakened. Arthur walked upstairs to his bedroom. He pulled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. Being too tired, he didn’t bother getting into his pajamas. Arthur checked his phone to see Peter’s email about arriving at Waterloo Station at five-thirty in the morning. Arthur groaned realizing the station about an hour away from his home. He set an alarm to wake himself up at four am and put his phone to charge. Arthur slipped into bed while pulling the covers over his shoulders. Slowly he slipped into the clutches of sleep as the moon shimmered brightly.


	12. Welcome To The Circus

PICCADILLY CIRCUS / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 16, 2020 / 8:57 AM

A long light post standing beside a street corner had a metal plaque nailed to it with the painted words _Piccadilly Circus_. A bright sun beamed down as Lestrade and John walked around the crowded clearing for any sign of the Canadian nation. The street area was filled with people and it seemed more difficult to make out any certain individuals than assumed. John stuffed his hands into his pant pockets and turned his head to look at Lestrade. The inspector was standing on the base of the long light post in attempt to get a better view. John stood beside him as several unsuccessful minutes passed by. Lestrade stepped off of the pole and shrugged after a red bus passed by. The two saw no one of familiarance to the photo if Matthew they had been shown by Alfred on their way to Piccadilly. They were about to walk away from the area when Alfred ran up to them. The American was breathing heavily and his light brown bomber jacket was tied around his waist. Sweat dripped off of his forehead and he held a paper bag in his right hand. John placed a hand on Alfred’s shoulder as the American attempted to regain his breath. Alfred straighten his back after a minute while John took his hand off his shoulder. Alfred wore his signature American smile and his sky blue eyes shinned. Then he coughed quietly and spoke with a dry voice. 

**“I ran around this entire place and Mattie is nowhere to be seen. *Gasp* ohshitI’mtired…. We should go to the next closest place around here. Also I picked up food ‘cuse Artie makes scrambled eggs with olive oil at that tastes like shit. Whatcha dudes think?”**

**“You ran around the entire place?! We’ve been here for barely fifteen minutes!”**

Lestrade exclaimed. The inspector had just been told of the nation’s true identities earlier that day and still was at attempt to comprehend the situation. Alfred pulled a couple of chips out of the bag and shrugged as he ate the snack. As a nation he was much more stronger that he appeared and his respiratory system was more advanced than most believed. Even the doctors that gave him check ups still thought of him as 'a man with superhero capabilities'. John sighed and checked his phone for any message from anyone. Nothing. John slipped his phone back into his coat pocket and he looked up to see Lestrade arguing with Alfred about their next destination. John listened in on their conversation.

**“Alright alright cool down dude. I know Mattie. If he think’s he's trouble he is gonna go somewhere isolated. A place people don’t go too much. Wait the more I think 'bout this the more it seems like hid 'n seek.”**

**“That is a was to put it. I know a area around here most people don’t go near. Shall we go there?”**

John asked. Lestrade and Alfred quickly agreed. The trio made their way through the crowded side walks. Alfred looked around curiously as clouds gathered in the sky. The clouds were slightly grey but Alfred didn’t think it was going to rain anytime soon. Lestrade and John walked beside each other quickly as Alfred trailed behind them slowly. He tossed his paper bag of chips into a trash can they passed by since his appetite had disappeared. Alfred's arms slipped into the arm holes of his jacket as he pulled it back on. He stuffed his hands into the bomber jacket's front pockets and huffed. This event of sorts made him angrier by the minute. Fist Matthew is kidnapped, which is terrible by its own, and then he discovers it was by a man from his own nation. Someone who worked directly with his boss and himself. The whole thing pissed him off deeply. Alfred frowned while glancing up at the path before him. He was at the corner of the sidewalk while John and Lestrade were already on the other side of the road. Alfred cursed several times under his breath. He ran across the street, barely getting chipped by a passing car, and caught up to them. Alfred then walked calmly behind the two who had not seemed to notice Alfred’s attempt to catch up to them. The American sighed. He just wanted to run off on his own and be a hero but he was not as familiar with London as it’s residents. John turned around in time to see Alfred losing his blue tie that he wore on top of his American themed t-shirt. Stress had begun to consume the nation inch by inch. John decided to ask if he was in a proper condition.

**“Are you feeling alright Jones?”**

**“Hmm? Yeah, I just get stressed sometimes. Pressure and shit like that.”**

**“We will find your brother.”**

**“I know dude but that’s not gonna stop me from worrying my ass off.”**

**“Point taken.”**

**“What the H E double hockey sticks is that?”**

Alfred asked as they approached the main gate of what appeared to be a park. The gate was unlocked and appeared quite beaten up. Lestrade pulled the gate open and the trio stepped inside. Lestrade mentioned that it was abandoned as they looked around. The pathways that lined the ground were overgrown with grasses and weeds. Trees grew high and in the paths blocking the sunlight. Plants grew over signs, benches, and anything else the roots could reach. The area was darker that the streets of London considering how much the green consumed. The trio walked up to one path that split three ways. After agreeing on a meeting place and time they all chose a path and ventured into the wood. John chose the darker middle pathway while Alfred went right and Lestrade headed left. John pulled a flashlight he kept on him and flicked it on. A beam of light shined down the pathway. On each side of the gravel path was a wall of large trees that stretched to the sky and bushes that pierced the air. The sound of chirping birds could be heard through the thick bunches of leaves. John walked down the silent path. The crunch of gravel could be heard beneath his shoes. His eyes glinted around as he shined the light around as he attempted to find any sign of Matthew’s presence. John’s mind wandered from thought to thought. He made a mental note to call Mary. Currently, she was on a trip with some friends and the home they shared was under re-construction which was his reason for staying at Baker Street. John made a turn as the pathway curved around an old light post. He made his way over a thick bush that blocked the pathway. Several hours, almost three, passed by quickly. The park was much larger than any of them had presumed. The trio had messaged each other to meet at a clearing that stood by the park’s exit. John walked down a path that was layered with tall weeds. He checked his cellphone once again. The time was 12:45pm. John began to walk towards the clearing when he spotted a shiny object in the corner of his eye. John walked up to a patch of grass. He slipped his flashlight back into his coat after turning it off. John carefully picked up the silver object and turned it over. The object was a necklace. The chain was long and a silver color with a locket connected to it that was shaped like a maple leaf. John clutched it in his hand and walked into the clearing. The grass was extremely tall but John could see Lestrade and Alfred standing next to a large metal gate across the field. John quickly walked over and handed the necklace to Alfred.

**“Did this belong to your brother?”**

**“Oh hells yeah! He wears this weird thing all the damn time.”**

**“I found it in a patch of grass over there.”**

John said while pointing to the area where he had found the necklace. Alfred nodded and hummed what could be interpreted as the star spangled banner. The American pocketed the necklace and crossed his arms with a smile. Lestrade and his search had been unsuccessful but John had found something which gave him hope. Lestrade felt his cellphone vibrate. He pulled his phone while Alfred and John planned out their next steps. Molly had sent him a message telling him that they had found Matthew’s necklace. Lestrade replied with what they had found and then tucked his phone away. He looked over to John and Alfred and spoke.

**“What now? Molly’s group found his cellphone and handkerchief while we just found a necklace….”**

**“We go get lunch.”**

Alfred replied with a grin. Lestrade glanced over to John who shrugged. The three walked out of the old park through a large gate. They walked to the nearest restaurant and grabbed the table closest to the door. It was small and fairly popular with the locals but that food was known to be excellent. The park was only a two minute walk away which was convenient for them. Alfred sat on one side of their table while John and Lestrade sat on the other side. After they each ordered a small meal the trio began to talk. John began to question what they were to do next.

**“Where do you think your brother would of gone?”**

**“Honestly I have no freaking idea dude. Mattie could be long gone by now….”**

**“We found something of his which means he could still be in the area.”**

Lestrade commented. Alfred nodded while a waiter came over and gave them each a glass of water. Alfred’s mind began to wander as Lestrade and John spoke about their next move. The American pulled out Matthew’s necklace from his pocket. He opened the maple leaf shaped locket to reveal two photos on each half. One photo was of a sleeping Kumajiro sitting in a large pile of maple leaves. Alfred smiled and looked at the other photo. The other one was what appeared to be a group of people. Alfred squinted his eyes to see who the people were in the photo. The photo was of all Allies and Axis members grouped together in one meeting room. Matthew could be spotted smiling behind Ivan and Yao. Alfred smirked, closed the locket, and pocketed the necklace. John spoke to Alfred as the American took a gulp of his water.

**“We should continue down this road.”**

**“Hmm. Sure dudes that’s no prob.”**

**“I was wondering something. I realize that you appear around 19 years but how old are you actually?”**

**“Ahaha! Dude I am 2 4 4 and more.”**

**“You aren’t aware of your exact age?”**

Lestrade asked as Alfred nodded. Most nations were not always aware of their exact age so they chose their birthdays. Alfred liked to use the Fourth of July as his birthday while Matthew chose Canada Day. A waiter came to their table and placed down the food they had ordered. Alfred and the other two began to eat as they chatted quietly. Lestrade began to question Alfred quietly so no one else over heard them. 

**“If you are the United States does that mean you fought in wars?”**

**“Hells yeah. All of em. Well, the ones that the U.S participated in.”**

**“I’ve been wondering…. Are you nations affected by what haves in your country?”**

**“Yeah. Whenever something big happens we can feel it physically, mentally, and emotionally. Not the best when a bad shitty thing happens. Example…. During 9/11 I was literally stuck in the emergency room for weeks. Get it?”**

Lestrade nodded as John listened on. Alfred took a bite of the salad he had ordered. Times were pretty rough at his nation but he could feel that things were going to brighten. The trio continued to eat peacefully as time slowly passed. They got to know each other better and spoke of current national events such as the upcoming Olympics. Soon after they finished eating the group paid for their meal, by splitting the bill, and headed into the street. Their search was continued until the sun slowly began to set over the horizon and the day then began to turn day into night. By that time they were far from home so they soon separated and each headed back home alone quietly. Alfred breathed in the cold air and began his long walk home. This adventure was just beginning.


	13. Roses Have Thorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with typing this chapter. My school is starting in about two weeks so chapters might be coming out slower but I have everything written down (on paper). I am determined to finish this fanfic before school starts so hopefully that comes true :) 
> 
> Credit to my friend Sophia for editing

LONDON SE1 7PB “THE LONDON EYE” / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 16, 2020 / 9:26 AM

The London Eye. A marvelous Ferris wheel that towers over buildings of grand heights. Thousands of tourists crammed into its pods year after year. But not this year. This year it's closed. Let us hear why. An idiot named Xander decided to throw a brick at one of the glass looking pods to see if it would break. It was barely damaged but that idiot was damaged by security. One week later that idiots sister, Lauryn, threw several metal pipes at the same pod for 'revenge' which shattered the whole thing. She got arrested so that idiot's sister's father decided to break an electrical generator that powered the Eye. Luckily the Eye has a backup generator but he broke that to. Then the idiot's sister's father's husband bailed them out of jail and they all moved to Cardiff. That is why the Eye is now closed for repairs and everyone hates Xander. Screw you Xander. Of course you can still see it with all its glory but it gets really boring when you can't ride in the Ferris wheel. That caused a little decrease in tourism. Francis stood in front of the tall wheel with a devilish grin. He snapped a photo of the damaged ride finding it funny that this was the reason a large amount of people decided to go to his nation instead of Arthur's this year. Francis turned around to see Molly sitting on a bench attempting to explain to her boss why she was not at work. Francis pocketed his phone and began to hum to himself. So far they had seen no sign of Matthew. Francis could tell that Matthew was long gone. Call it instinct. Francis walked over to Molly as she hung up her call. She slumped over and slipped her phone into her coat. Her boss decided to give her the next two days off at the price of extra hours and extra paperwork. Something she hated about her job was paperwork. Francis took a set beside her and smiled brightly.

**“Is your arm feeling better?”**

**“Um, yeah. How are you?”**

**“Oh I'm quite fine Molly. Where is your ami impair?”**

**“Sherlock is…. I don't really know. He'll be here.”**

Molly said as she rolled her eyes. In the middle of their ride Sherlock decided to leave. Once they had stopped at a red light Sherlock opened the door and left without a word. Francis nodded and stood up while holding a hand out to Molly. He helped her up and then crossed his arms. Molly stuffed her hands in her white coat pockets and looked around the large area. Francis and Molly looked at the large wheel. It was extraordinary how one creation could bring so many people together. The Eye was one of those creations. Molly remembered the one time she had rode the Eye. Only once but it was nice. Molly began to wonder if Francis ever rode the Eye before and decided to ask him.

**“Have you ever took a ride on the Eye?”**

**“Many times. How about you Molly?”**

**“Once a long time ago. Should we begin to look around?”**

**“Oui. It does not seem like Mr. Holmes will be going us anytime soon.”**

Francis said as they began to walk around the area. They followed a long white bricked road down a small hill and came up to a large playground. Molly squinted her eyes and then walked up to the fence that surround the play area. She unlocked the gate and walked inside as Francis trailed behind her. The two approached an area with thick ropes tied to pillars of different how guys to created a large course. Francis held in a laugh as Molly climbed through the ropes slowly. Finally Molly grabbed a handkerchief she had spotted earlier. She grabbed it and then attempted to climb out but her foot became caught between two ropes. Francis broke into laughter and then helped her out. Molly laughed along happily once she got out. She sat on the ground which was covered in a colorful soft turf. Molly handed the handkerchief to Francis who then sat beside her. It was a light red fabric with a dark red lining. The initials MW were stitched on in the right corner of the folded fabric. Francis unfolded the handkerchief from its square shape. A small photograph fell out onto his lap. He picked it up and the two looked at the photo. The photo was old but four personals could be seen, two clearly being Francis and Matthew, while the two others were young females. Francis smiled. One of the girls had light blonde hair tied with red ribbons and wore square glasses. The other girl had dark brown hair that was separated into two ponytails. The ponytails were also tied together with red ribbons. Francis recognized the two while Molly wondered who they were. Francis sighed and decided to share their identities in a way that did not reveal their true identities.

**“The one with glasses is Lucille and the other is Michelle. They are Matthew's…. half sisters.”**

**“Really? That's nice that you're all related.”**

**“Do you have a family?”**

**“My father passed away years ago and I'm an only child.”**

**“Sorry for your loss.”**

**“Thanks.”**

**“Do you have a mother?”**

**“I never re-”**

**“-what are you two doing?”**

A new voice said. Molly and Francis looked up to see Sherlock standing over him. Molly was shocked at how quietly he had approached them to the point they had not noticed. Sherlock wore a blank expression and his hands were stuffed in his long jacket’s pockets. Francis smiled and helped Molly up in a gentlemanly manner. The Frenchman slipped the small photograph into his pant’s pocket while he held the handkerchief in his other hand. He didn’t want to say anything but he was slightly angry at Sherlock for separating from them. 

**“We found Mathieu’s handkerchief here. What have you been doing?”**

**“Searching. Isn't that what we are doing?”**

**“You should be searching with us Holmes.”**

**“I work better alone.”**

**“Well that is to bad. If you want to work alone leave this case to the big kids. For now I am going to kindly ask you to SUCK IT UP AND BE AN ADULT! Pourquoi êtes-vous britannique alors coincé up?”**

Francis said firmly while crossing his arms. Sherlock, stunned, stood silently while Molly covered her mouth with her hand in attempt to hide her laughter. Sherlock finally snapped out of his state and explained to Francis that he was trying to get his network to help out but Francis honestly did not give a shit. Molly rubbed her hands together and looked up at the sky. Grey clouds could be seen forming but she didn’t remember hearing about it raining anytime soon. Luckily she always kept a small umbrella in her coat pocket for precautions. The area seemed to darken as the sun hid behind a large cloud. Molly interrupted Francis and Sherlock who were arguing.

**“We found something of his here so he might still be in the area. We should go look around.”**

Francis nodded and Sherlock stayed still. Molly placed her right hand on her left shoulder. Her arm was still sore from the incident before. They exited the park. Francis continued down the path they were on before as Molly and Sherlock trailed behind. Sherlock glanced at Molly and frowned slightly.

**“I don’t think I injured you that badly.”**

**“No. It’s just sore.”**

**“Oh.”**

**“Don’t think I’m going to forget this though.”**

**“Why is that?”**

**“You get so caught up in cases sometimes that you don’t realize that you act…. aggressive.”**

Molly said while buttoning her white coat as a cold breeze passed by. Sherlock looked ahead with an almost understanding expression. Francis, Sherlock, and Molly walked down a paved sidewalk. They soon encountered a large green field that was commonly used for picnicking. Surprisingly the entire field was empty. Francis pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. The group silenced as the phone rang. A few seconds later Molly swore she heard a ringtone. The sound was definitely real. While Sherlock questioned Francis' means Molly snuck off. She walked towards the sound until she came upon a bush of blooming roses. The ringtone could be clearly heard now. Molly winced at the sight of the thorns and then stuck her hand into the bush. She felt around the flowers while failing to avoid the piercing thorns. A minute passed with no luck until she finally grasped a rectangle shaped object. Hoping it was not some weird animal, Molly pulled her hand and the object out of the bush. In her now scratched up hand lay a cellphone. The phone’s case was a dark red with a white maple leaf print in the center. The ringtone had stopped but the phone's lock screen was lit up to reveal a photo of a large snowy mountain and Matthew standing in front of it wearing climbing gear. Molly cursed under her breath as her thorn scratches began to slowly bleed. She walked back to the two other men and handed the phone to Francis. The two looked down to her as she wiped the blood off of her hand onto her white lab coat. Sherlock questioned her as Francis looked over the phone. 

**“Where did you find this?”**

**“In a rose bush.”**

**“You heard the ringtone….”**

**“Yep.”**

**“Thank you Molly.”**

Francis said while grinning. Molly quickly sent Lestrade a text of their findings as Sherlock mentioned close areas they could head to. Molly slipped her phone in her pant’s pocket. She faced Francis who wore a deep frown. Molly nudged him.

**“What's wrong?”**

**“Nothing…. I just wish I knew Mathieu’s phone passcode.”**

**“Let me see.”**

Sherlock said blandly. Francis handed Sherlock the cell phone. The detective looked over the screen. Matthew’s fingerprints were almost undetectable showing that he rarely used the phone. Several prints on six digits could be seen but if he were to get the wrong code more that three times the phone would disable itself.

**“Date and year of his birth.” “Hmmm…. Oh! July first 1867.” ******

Francis chinned, happy he remembered the date. Molly paled and shook it off. She was still oblivious to their real identities as nations. Sherlock huffed and imputed the date and year. The phone unlocked and revealed Matthew’s home screen photograph. The photo was of Matthew wearing what appeared to be a Mountie uniform standing beside an old maple tree with Kumajiro. Francis chuckled as Sherlock opened Matthew’s email. The inbox was empty. Francis’ smile faded as Sherlock opened Matthew's iMessage app which was also missing his text groups. After searching through other important apps it seemed that everything else was there except his texts, emails, and recent search history information.

**“This is odd. I never thought Mathieu was one to delete this type of important information.”**

Francis murmured with a disappointed tone. Sherlock handed the phone to the Frenchman who slipped it into his blue coat’s pocket. Sherlock flipped open his phone and began searching for something as Francis’ mind wandered. He knew Matthew was tougher than he seemed. Hell, Matthew was more passive aggressive than any nation that he knew. But what would Matthew do in a situation such as this? It was clear now that Matthew was trying to get to a certain destination but what destination? Where would be go to find safety? A light bulb lit in Francis’ mind. He faced Molly with a grin.

**“I know where Mathieu might be.”**

**“Where?”**

**“Home.”**

Francis said. He ran from the field with Sherlock and Molly at his heels. It was oblious now. Home is one of the places most people saw as the safest place in the world. A place where you could be alone. Safe in the comfort of home. Francis, Molly, and Sherlock found the main road quickly were the Frenchman's car was parked as he explained why he thought Matthew had went to his apartment. Francis quickly began to drive the car in the direction of Matthew’s apartment which was almost half an hour away. A few minutes later Sherlock began to fidget as if he was going to jump out the car once again. With a case as fast moving as this patience was not exactly key at the moment. Molly sighed and pulled a regular rubik's cube from her coat pocket. She mixed the colors quickly. John had told her before that Sherlock was awful at solving rubik’s cubes. Molly handed the cube to Sherlock who frowned. She looked out the side window. 

**“Just solve it Sherlock.”**

Molly said firmly. A minute passed and Sherlock began to attempt at solving the cube. Molly started looking at work emails on her cell phone until Francis finally parked the car in front of a peaceful looking apartment building. The group stepped out of the car and then Francis locked the car quickly. Sherlock grimaced as he failed to solve the cube once again after several attempts. Molly smiled. She liked seeing that Sherlock could act a little human sometimes and not so robotic. Francis pulled the front door open and they entered the seemingly empty building. Francis directed them to a spiral staircase which soon led them to the door to Room 20. Francis lifted the light brown welcome mat. Nothing was underneath. Francis murmured something unclear under his breath. Sherlock opened the door. Someone had left it unlocked. The trio walked into the apartment room. Francis’ face paled as the group saw the mass destruction that had been left. Paintings and pictures that once hung on the walls lay torn on the floor. A large diagonal cut could be seen on the couch revealing feathers and cution fluff. The room looked like a battle scene. No. It was a battle scene. A glass armoire was shattered to bits with its broken contents on the floor. Dark drying blood was splattered around the room of the living section. A once nice carpet that a once unbroken coffee table stood on was now soaked in the dark red liquid. Then they saw it. A message was written on one side of the wall in a deep blood color. The message was…. disturbing.

_wHoEver Leads the Please spare Many livEs Live ON DON’t die_

Francis held a hand over his mouth and took a step backwards. A sick feeling pounded in his chest. This was never meant to happen. He never wanted this to happen. Why was this happening? Francis quickly excused himself to catch some fresh air. Sherlock slipped the rubik’s cube in his coat pocket and began to bound around the room. He observed every inch of the mess as Molly went over to the message. She took out a note pad and pen from her pocket. It was easy to spot the message which could be spelled with the capital letters. Molly scribbled the message down and looked over to Sherlock who was using a small magnifying glass he carried around. He was observing the shattered armoire.

**“Sherlock the mes-”**

**“-says ‘help me London’. It’s just a plea for help.”**

**“Oh, ok but Sh-”**

**“-what is important is the fight that occurred here.”**

**“No shit, Sherlock. Now let me talk. I think Matthew is still in London. If he knew he was heading somewhere else he would just say ‘help me’ but here he is specifically asking for London's help.”**

**“Superb deduction Hooper.”**

**“….You knew didn’t you.”**

**“Yes.”**

Sherlock said as he walked over to the blood soaked carpet. Molly stood up while crossing her arms. This was not how she planned her evening. Molly began to take notes of small observations she found interesting until there was nothing left to take note of. Francis returned, he was pale, and began to look around the room slowly. The mess obviously distressed him. A small clock in the right corner beeped three times symbolizing that the time had already reached three o’clock. Sherlock approached Francis and began to tell what he presumed went down in the room. Molly stood and walked over in time to hear the beginning of Sherlock’s deduction. 

**“-Williams came here almost three hours ago. Then tw- no…. Three men slipped through the bedroom window and attacked him simultaneously. On stood here at the doorway while the other two surround him. The one to his left was knocked into the armoire while the other into the wall which knocked down the pictures and paintings. Then the one here at the door took Williams out with what I presume to be a sword.”**

**“Impressive my friend. I have to report this to the others. Do you two need a ride home?”**

**“Molly and I can take the tube. Tomorrow we meet at the Yard. Is 11am suitable?”**

**“I think so. Au Revoir.”**

Francis departed without another word. Molly turned to the door and was hit with the sudden recollection that her things were still at Barts. She turned to Sherlock who had already pulled out the rubik’s cube and attempted to solve it once again. Molly smirked and pocketed her notepad. After a disappointing failure, Sherlock pocketed the rubik’s cube in his coat pocket. He cleared his throat and Molly looked up at him.

**“I’ll return the puzzle later.”**

**“Oh, ok…. Hey my things are still at Barts. You can just head home I’ll take a taxi.”**

**“Hmm? Are you certain?”**

**“Uhuh. I’ll see you at the Yard tomorrow. You guys got me all wrapped up in this.”**

**“Not precisely….”**

**“Bye Sherlock.”**

**“Goodbye, Molly.”**

Sherlock said while pulling out his phone. Molly smiled and ran off to grab a cab. Sherlock watched her leave quietly. He looked around the room once more but found nothing new. Sherlock left the room and closed the front door quietly. Soft footsteps could be heard as he walked down the spiral staircase. Sherlock squinted as a beam of sunlight passed by his eyes. The detective began to walk down the street as he organized his thoughts. He decided to head back to Baker street unaware of a man wearing a white suit that had been following the group all day.


	14. Unfortunate Indeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short :P

##### CRAWFORD STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 16, 2020 / 5:08 PM

Molly walked up three cement steps to the front door of a tall building. She pulled out a small grey key out of her pocket and unlocked the front door quickly to enter the building to be hit with a blast of cool air. She closed the door and headed over to an elevator across the room. Quiet footsteps echoed through the empty hall as the soles of her shoes clicked against the marble flooring. Bright lights lit the hall as she pressed the up button beside the old elevator. A ding sound could be heard as the elevator doors slid opened with a creak. Molly slipped inside and pressed the the number three out of the five buttons on the right panel of the machine. Her mind wandered over to paranoid thoughts. The main floor of the apartment complex was usually filled with familiar faces but today it was empty. Odd. Molly pulled off her scarf and stuffed it into her handbag since it was no longer needed. Her hands slipped into her pant’s pockets as a soft melody floated through the air. Her head crained to listen to the familiar tune as the volume increased the closer she got to her flat. Molly shrugged as the title of the tune came up blank. A ding could be heard as the elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. Molly stepped out of the elevator and faced a smudged mirror that hung on the hallway’s wall. The rings around her eyes had darkened slightly from the lack of sleep and her hair was messy and falling from it’s ponytail. Molly pulled the light purple band from her hair; releasing her dark brown hair onto her shoulders. She slipped the band onto her wrist and perked her head up as the melody came to a sudden halt. Molly turned left and headed down a short hall. Her footsteps silenced as she stopped in front of the door to her flat. Room 011. She pulled another key from her coat and slipped it into the keyhole. Molly’s her stopped as the door slightly cracked open as the key began to turn. The door had already been unlocked. Molly pocketed the key, pulled out a pepper spray bottle, and entered her flat. She closed the door and locked it quietly. Her eyes darted around wildly. Everything looked as it did before she left to work. The photographs that hung on the walls were straight, the furniture unmoved, and a empty water bottle lay tipped over on her coffee table. Exactly where she had left it in the morning. Molly tugged off her white lab coat and slipped her hand bag off her shoulders, dropping it to the floor. She hung her coat on a hook beside the door and wandered through her home silently. No intruder was in sight. Molly returned to the living room with a relieved look. Then she heard a small creak behind her dark brown couch in the center of the room beside the coffee table. A pair of green eyes peered at her mischievously as Molly peaked behind the couch while pocketing the pepper spray. She laughed to herself as a white and brownish-grey cat sauntered over to with a small meow. Molly grinned as she bent down and stroked Toby, her ‘lovely’ cat who saw little interest in his owner most of the time. After such a long day Molly just wanted some peace but that was the opposite of what she was to receive. This new case that Sherlock was working on was a big mystery and she couldn’t help but enjoy the little danger that had come. Molly stood up. Suddenly a male voice with an American accent spoke causing her heart to come to a halt. 

**“Wassup Doctor Hooper.”**

Molly went cold as the corpses she works with. Toby scampered into the kitchen after getting a clear view of the stranger. Molly slowly turned around to face the barrel of a shiny silver revolver. Molly gulped and held her breath. Molly looked up at the man who held the weapon. His hair was dark brown and his eyes were a sharp green color. He wore white shoes, white pants, and a white jacket buttoned with white across his chest. Around his neck was a straitened tie decorated with tiny United States’ flags. His smile was twisted into a devilish smirk that could only mean trouble. Molly took a step backwards as the man let out a chilling chuckle. Her mind had gone completely blank and no words rolled off her tongue. Fear began to take over her instinct to run and she stood paralyzed in her spot.

**“We can do this the easy way or the hard way Dr.”**

**“Wh- who the hell are you?!”**

**“Doesn’t matter. All I wanna know is if Williams mention any names to ya? Any names at all?”**

**“What? N-No….”**

**“Huh. Well, sadly I don’t believe you.”**

With a swift movement the man struck Molly across the forehead with the handle of his gun. Molly yelped as pain shot through her head. Then the man brought the gun down on the top of her skull with a crack sending her into a unconscious state. Molly crumbled to the ground in a heap. Dark red blood dripped onto the floorboards from a gash across her hairline. Laughter filled the room as the man hooked the gun onto his holster behind his left arm. He grabbed Molly’s body by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. Her brown hair covered her face as he walked over to the front door. The man held her with one held over the back of her legs near the knees and opened the door with the other while snickering to himself. It was too easy. The door slammed shut. A small meow could be heard by only who listened closely in the empty room. Toby crawled out of his hiding place while his light green eyes glittered. His tail flicked from side to side as he sauntered over to a desk that stood next to the right wall beside a window that Molly often looked through. After jumping onto the desk with no consideration of what he knocked over Toby plopped onto a closed silver laptop, waiting for the return of his owner once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My school is starting this week so I may not be able to post chapters until the weekends


	15. Blue and Green Stripes

##### WATERLOO STATION / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 17, 2020 / 4:13 AM

The crunching of gravel could be heard as a light green Beetle rolled down a paved road. The car's head lights beamed the way as the sun slowly rose. Trees rustled as a light breeze passed through the air. Arthur yawned as he turned the steering wheel as a bend came up in the road and the car soon began to approach a large building. The train station. Soon the car rolled into the parking lot quietly and parked in an empty spot near the entrance. Arthur slipped out and grabbed a canteen full of tea he had brought with him. He locked the car and slipped the keys into his back pocket. Only his footsteps could be heard as he walked into a large area full of shops and machines. It almost appeared like an empty airport. Arthur leaned against a pole with signs that directed people to different areas of the station. When his alarm rang earlier that day he had barely gotten any sleep before but that didn't matter, someone had to pick up Peter. Arthur drank his tea as time passed by and soon groups of people exited a large door causing the area to fill with the sound of voices. A young boy with light blonde hair, thick eyebrows, and sea-green eyes called Arthur's name with a happy tone. He wore a light blue coat, a white t-shirt designed with anchors, blue shorts, and two brown tennis shoes. The boy held a large blue suitcase in one hand while his other arm was in a cast held up by a sling. The British man walked over quickly and took the suitcase from the boy. Arthur then took the boy's free hand and they began their way out of the station to the parking lot without a word. Once they returned to the parking lot Arthur unlocked his car and opened the truck. The young boy sat in the front seat as Arthur closed the truck, tossed his canteen in the back and got into the driver's seat. He put the car key into a hole beside the steering wheel and started the car. The young boy started humming as the car drove out of the parking lot and onto the road that would lead them home. Arthur sighed and glanced at the boy and noticed that the boy's cast was not only blue but had green stripes across it including seven signatures that he could only assume belonged to the other micro nations.

**“Blue and green hmm?”**

**“They said I could. *yawn* How's stuff?”**

**“Stuff is fine Peter.”**

**“I heard someone got kidnapped.”**

**“Never mind that.”**

Arthur said frowning. Peter sighed reluctantly. Arthur took a long breath and glanced again at Peter as they came onto a red stop light. The nations that had been shared of the kidnapping were told to keep it quiet. So, how could Peter find out? Arthur tapped the steering wheel with his thumbs and his grip tightened. It became clear to him soon after. Feliciano and Lovino were brother's with Leonardo, also known as Seborga, and most likely told him over the phone. Peter looked at his lap and then gasped; he forgot to put on his seat belt. Peter buckled the belt as Arthur continued to drive down the road. The micro nation decided to ask again but give it a minute. He pulled a thick white object from his pocket and turned it around. Arthur glanced at the object, glanced again, and he began to realize what it was.

**“Is that a bone?!”**

**“It's actually mine! The doctors said I could keep it.”**

**“Bloody hell Peter.”**

**“Haha.”**

**“Very funny….”**

**“You know you don't have to keep what's happening all bottled up. I'm technically an adult so I can take it.”**

Peter murmured and he slipped the bone back into his pocket. Arthur sighed and turned the car down a empty road. Surprisingly he had not encountered any traffic yet. Though it was quiet early and traffic usually appeared around the afternoon. The car was silent for a while until Arthur decided to tell Peter what happened. Telling the micro nation would not change anything. Arthur cleared his throat and spoke softly.

**“Matthew was kidnapped.”**

**“Shite that's awful!”**

**“It is.”**

**“Do you know if he's still in London?”**

**“No lad we don't.”**

**“I think he is.”**

**“Why is that?”**

**“If I was a kidnapper I would keep him in in the same city.”**

**“Oh…. really? That’s an interesting opinion Peter.”**

**“Uhuh. And I think you should check abandoned buildings. They're perfect places to keep people away from the grid!”**

**“You seem to know a lot about kidnapping lad. Should I be concerned?”**

**“Nah. I just watch a lot of cop shows and read mystery books.”**

**“Hmm. Any suggestions of places to look.”**

**“Battersea. Definitely Battersea.”**

Peter said firmly while his sea-green eyes glittered confidently. Arthur's eyebrows knotted as he frowned. _Why Battersea?_ Arthur thought about it for a moment that's realized Peter was right. Abandoned areas were perfect areas to keep a kidnapped victim. Battersea is a decommissioned coal-fired power station located on the south bank of the River Thames. The station ceased generating electricity in 1983 but over the past 50 years it has become a well known in London. The station is one of the largest brick buildings in the world and has remained largely unused since its closure. Though the fact that the condition of the structure has been described as "very bad" is not very reassuring to hear if someone was being trapped in it. Arthur took one hand of the wheel and placed a hand on Peter's head. Arthur glanced at the micro nation to see that he had fallen asleep. He placed his hand back on the wheel and slightly smiled. Time slowly passed by and the sun was now shining brightly in the sky. The roads were filled with cars and bikes. Arthur sighed as he pulled up to his street and parked in front of his home. He checked to time to see that it was 7:05am, Francis and Alfred were most likely to be awake by now. Arthur unclipped his seatbelt and then unclipped Peter's. The micronation was still fast asleep and Arthur couldn't help but smile. Peter is family to him and he treated the micro nation like a son. Arthur got out of the car, closed the door, and walked around to Peter's side. Arthur opened the door and picked Peter up. He held Peter in one hand and then grabbed the suitcase that was in the truck. A light breeze passed by as he locked the car. Arthur shifted Peter so the cast did not have any pressure placed on it which was slightly difficult. Arthur walked up to his front door with slumped shoulders. The door suddenly swung open to reveal a extremely tired American. Alfred blinked his eyes as the sunlight beamed. He stepped aside so Arthur could enter and then closed the door with a slam. Alfred wore gray sweatpants, a Avengers themed t-shirt and his hair was clearly not combed. Arthur put Peter's suitcase down and now held the micro nation with his two arms. The two walked into the living room to see Francis sitting on the green couch closest to the kitchen in front of a chess board that was set up on Arthur's tea table. Francis looked up, he was clearly dressed properly and not in pjs, at the two and smiled. But then he saw Peter in Arthur's arm.

**“What happened to the little one?”**

**“He fell out of a tree and had to come home early. A bone in his arm apparently shattered.”**

**“Mon dieu that sounds painful.”**

**“I'll be right down I'm going to put him in his room.”**

**“Kay Artie.”**

Alfred said as he sat down on the other green couch across from Francis and moved the black Pawn on the board. The white King was now at checkmate. Francis groaned as Alfred laughed brightly. Arthur smirked and walked upstairs onto the third floor. He took a left down a small hall and approached a light yellow door. The words 'SEALAND'S KINGDOM' was written on the door with bright red sharpie. Arthur rolled his eyes and opened the door. The room was painted a light green but he had plans to re-paint it a dark blue with paintings of sea animals on the walls, according to Peter's wishes, to make it more ocean like. A medium sized bed sat in the center with a night table to the left. Arthur walked over and placed the micro nation on the bed. He then walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a blue blanket. The blanket was pulled over Peter and then Arthur quietly left the room. The nation walked back down stairs to the living room and sat in his favorite chair. Alfred and Francis had cleared the tea table and set three items on top of it. A handkerchief, necklace, and cellphone. Arthur looked over the items and spoke.

**“Are these Matthew's?”**

**“Yeah they are... Francis tell him about the apartment thing.”**

**“Ah, yes. My group went to Matthew's apartment room. It was a mess. But Matthew had left a message written in. . . . Blood. It was coded but we figured out it translated to something that basically said ‘Help London’ so that must mean Matthew is still here in London, right?”**

**“It must....”**

Arthur murmured. They were silent until Arthur recalled what Peter had told him about abandoned buildings. He pulled out a map of London that he always kept on him from his coat pocket and circled possible abandoned buildings. Arthur explained the reason to Alfred and Francis who argued on the point of the entire statement. The group continued to talk as time passed. Kumajiro shortly joined them from wherever he had been hiding and decided to help out. After almost two hours a knock was heard at the doorway. The group turned to see Peter standing at the entrance of the living room with a tired expression. He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand while his other, of course, was still in the sling. Alfred smiled and pulled out a pen from. . . . somewhere.

**“Sup little dude. Can I sign your cast?”**

**“Sure!”**

Peter exclaimed as his expression brightened. He sat beside Alfred who signed his cast with a red pen. The American's signature was sloppy and took most room but Francis signed as well. Peter smiled and looked over to Arthur who wore a melancholic smile. The micro nation squeezed onto the same chair as Arthur with a wide grin. Arthur wrapped an arm around Peter's shoulders and rolled his eyes at the personification's immature nature. Then Peter spoke up after a minute of silence.

**“Are you guys talking about Battersea?”**

**“Somewhat lad.”**

**“Hmmm..... Need help?”**

**“No offense little dude but you gotta rest your arm. Thanks though.”**

**“Kay.”**

**“Peter, lad, we will be leaving in a few hours I want to stay here with Kumajiro. Alright?”**

**“Sure Jerkland.”**

Arthur rolled his eyes and ruffled Peter’s hair. The micro nation grinned and jumped out of his seat. After saying goodbye to the trio he sprinted out of the living room. The group silenced as Peter’s footsteps quieted. Arthur leaned back in his chair and sighed. He was absolutely exhausted but the day was just beginning. Alfred looked from Francis to Arthur and then spoke silently.

**“What now Iggy?”**

**“Do as you want, I’m resting.”**


	16. It Begins

##### CRAWFORD ST / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 17, 2020 / 11:36 AM

The group had gathered together. After Arthur had shared the location where he was positive Matthew was being held the group was more than ready to head out. But something was missing…. No, SOMEONE was missing. Molly still had not joined the six gentlemen at the Yard. Soon a dark realization that something was wrong seemed to cloud the mind of some. The groups separated into a cab and other into Francis’ car and started their rides to where Molly’s flat resided. Though it took some time, Alfred’s cab had gone on a longer route, they re-grouped and entered the large apartment building after being buzzed in by Molly’s neighbor. The ground floor was littered with a few individuals. A few had not heard of Molly since the previous morning and a few commented on hearing music coming from her room around 4:50pm the other afternoon. It seemed as if almost everyone there knew Molly and only a collective few didn’t even know she lived in the same building as themselves. Sherlock had asked the Molly’s neighbor about the music to which he had found strange. According to him, Molly never played anything to loud and when she did it was common of her to apologize later. Arthur, Alfred, Francis, John, Lestrade, and Sherlock into the only working elevator and began their way up to Molly’s room. Lestrade stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet at the thick awkward silence the group shared. Even Alfred’s serious expression gave him chills since the American seemed like a hyper guy. The elevator’s door slid open with a creak as they reached their desired floor. One by one the group exited the metal machine. Sherlock led the way to Molly’s flat quietly. Sherlock pushed the unlocked door open and the group stepped into the flat. The common area and basically everything appeared fine, apart from the absence of Molly. Lestrade and John headed off to search the other rooms while Sherlock paced about the living room. Alfred, Arthur, and Francis hung by the front door silently seeing it was not their place at the time. Sherlock’s mind began to go over his observations as he pieced together what had happened. Molly’s coat was hung and her handbag on it’s usual place, the floor, so whatever danger there was had not attacked her right of the bat. All of her things were in place which meant that the event must of taken place soon after her entering or it would've been safe to assume that Molly would of sat down on her couch. The attack came almost three to five minutes after she came home. Sherlock stopped in his tracks as he spotted a splotch of blood on the floorboards next to Molly’s brown couch. In this case it was safe to assume the blood was Molly’s. Sherlock’s eyes darted about as he realized Molly was caught off guard by what he could tell to now be an intruder as a window in the kitchen was open by an inch. Most likely the window was jimmied by a crowbar. The intruder came through the kitchen, hid there, and most likely got to this floor through the fire escape stairs. What distracted Molly though? What gave the intruder enough time to get behind her to make an attack? Sherlock’s eyes glared around the room until he saw what had distracted Molly. He walked over to Molly’s desk and picked up the fluffy cat that sat upon her laptop. Toby looked at Sherlock and then began to purr as the detective scratched the cat behind his ears. John and Lestrade walked into the the room with no success in finding anything of importance. Sherlock spoke with a stale tone.

**“Molly arrived here around an hour or so after we separated. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary entering so that explains why all of her things are in place. Toby here must of caught her attention which gave a intruder enough time to come out from wherever he or she was hiding. This explains the music which must of been used to muffle the noise of the intruder breaking in through the kitchen window. He or she hid behind the counter and then knock Molly out. There isn’t a lot of blood so the intruder must of used a blunt object, most likely the handle of their gun or a bat. No footprints are on the floor so I don’t see how we are going to be able to find her….”**

**“Find my IPhone dude…. She has an Iphone right?”**

Alfred commented with a grin. Sherlock immediately caught onto what Alfred had meant and placed Toby onto the floor. The cat meowed and scampered off to Molly’s bedroom leaving the nations and humans alone. Sherlock grabbed Molly’s laptop and flopped onto her couch. The other’s gathered around him with curiosity. Sherlock typed in her passcode, have ‘borrowed’ her laptop before, and made his way onto the Apple website. He easily deduced her Apple ID username and passcode. The group peered at the map of England as it located where Molly’s Apple devices were. They waited in silence as the location of her phone appeared on the map with a ping. A few clicks later and Sherlock had zoomed in on the map onto Molly’s phone’s current location. Her location. The Battersea Power Station. Arthur’s prediction, or more Peter’s prediction…., was correct. The same person who took Matthew had come after Molly. Sherlock closed the laptop and looked over to Lestrade with a cold expression.

**“We will go ahead. Go back to the Yard and get all of you back up.”**

**“Are you sure Sherlock?”**

**“We haven’t the time to argue! GO!”**

Sherlock yelled. The group hurried downstairs quickly, leaving Molly’s flat locked after grabbing one of her spare keys. Lestrade hailed a cab and began his journey back to Scotland Yard. Sherlock, Francis, John, Arthur, and Alfred piled into Francis’ car and headed to Battersea. The car was filled with voices as Sherlock, John, and Alfred argued on which approach they were to take once they arrived. Sherlock said they go straight in while John suggested they wait for backup. Alfred exclaimed, quite loudly, that all back HIM up as he went in alone. Arthur and Francis sat quietly in the front seats as time passed by slowly. Time ticked by as they finally reached the abandoned power plant. Francis parked in an empty lot a few feet in front of the station. They stepped out one by one and stood beside the car before the large building. Thoughts jumbled about all their minds. Alfred finally spoke as he pulled a revolver from his jacket pocket and grimaced.

**“Here we go.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking such a long time! High school is just.... not fun (definitely not a musical) :) I'll try posting chapters sooner but the first two weeks of school have been ruff for me so we shall see


	17. Fighting Fire

##### BATTERSEA POWER STATION / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 17, 2020 / 1:14 AM

**BAM!**

The door burst open and landed on the floor with a thump. Dust slowly rose in the air as Francis stepped inside the large area shaking his healing hand. Unused machines stood on the sides of the room collecting dust. The floor was littered with soot and dirtied papers. Clearly no one had been there in years…. Until now. Sherlock’s eyes darted across the area as John pulled out his flashlight. The beam of light shined down the walls to reveal a door on the other end of the machinery room. All of the sudden the group jumped while Alfred let out a shrill scream as he walked into a large spider web. Arthur rolled his eyes as the American murmured an apology. Arthur grabbed a lever on the left wall and pulled it downwards. The area stayed silent until a few machines began to hum to life. The unbroken lights flickered on weakly. John turned off his flashlight and pocketed it while pulling out a gun. Just in case things went sideways. They silently made their way to the door side by side. As they approached the door the room began to drop in temperature and fill the air with chills. Arthur turned crossed his arms and took a deep breath. Francis tugged at the door knob and surprisingly, the door opened. The group slipped through the door into a cold dim hall covered in dark splotches of different liquids that had hardened over the years. John pulled out his flashlight once again and flicked it on giving the group quite a shock. At the end of the hall stood two doors. One was red while the other white and the paint was clearly fresh. But was most disturbing was a stuffed white teddy bear lay beside the red door while a skull lay beside the white one. The floor was lined with mouse traps and at the end a foot before the doors lay a large bear trap. John cringed as he shined the light at the floor so Arthur, Alfred, Francis, and Sherlock could pass before him. Arthur, Francis, Alfred, and Sherlock hopped over the bear trap and soon John followed closely. The group stood before the two doors in dead silence.

**“What the fuck do we do now?”**

Alfred blurted after a solid two minutes of silence. Arthur elbowed him in the ribs roughly. Francis chuckled and picked up the white teddy bear and looked it over. On the tail was an old-looking key with a maple leaf imprint on the bow. Francis held up the key to which John immediately picked up the skull and pulled out a wavy key with a flower imprint in the metal. Sherlock took the skull from John and was immediately able to tell it was real skull. A real skull from a female. John slipped the key in the white door’s lock while Francis did the same with the red door with its key. The white door unlocked and creaked open while the red door did the same.

**“Shall we zeparate in groups? Alfred will go with me while you Englishmen go have a tea party together-”**

**“-Shut it frog.”**

Arthur snapped back as Francis let out a small laugh. Alfred high-fived Francis as Arthur shot them a disapproving look. John spoke in agreement and so it was done. Sherlock, Arthur, and John headed through the white door without another word while Francis and Alfred headed through the red door with glee.

\----------

The red door slammed shut as Alfred and Francis stepped into a bright room. Their eyes widened as they took in the atmosphere. The walls were painted with a velvet color that shines and the floors decorated with dark red tiles. A beautiful chandelier decorated with maple leaves hung from the ceiling brightening the room with a crimson color. Francis crossed his arms as Alfred gasped in awe. It was clear to the two that someone had set this up in advance for a reason. What reason was the question though. The nation’s eyes darted to the center of the room. In the mid center of the room stood a light britch round drum end table. On top of the table lay a yellowing slip of folded paper and a quill with ink beside it. On the other side of the room, which was quite a distance for the room was quite large, was a small door that was small enough for a small child but big enough for an adult to crawl through. A small adult. Beside the door was what appeared to be a touch pad. Alfred ran across the room to the ‘Alice In Wonderland’ like door while Francis sauntered over to the round table. Francis picked up the paper and carefully unfolded and read what was scrawled upon it while Alfred tugged at the door. It didn’t budge an inch. The American glared at the touch pad with dagger like eyes. This was a game. A stupid game that was getting on his nerves. Alfred snarled as he saw a pass code was required to open the door.

**“Fuck this shit. The door needs a fucking pass code.”**

**“Merde…. Did you think it would be so simple? Whoever has done thiz knows what they’re doing! Come, this paper has a riddle on it. That may be our key out of here.”**

Francis chimed holding up the paper. Alfred sighed and walked over to Francis who handed him the aging paper. Alfred’s sky blue eyes flickered over the page as he mumbled the riddle out loud.

 **“Everyone has it. Those who have it least don’t know that they have it. Those who have it most wish they had less of it, But not too little or none at all.”**

Alfred scoffed and pocketed the riddle. What type of riddle was this? The American looked at Francis curiously receiving a shrug in return. Francis walked over to the touch pad and inspected it. The due thought in silence as they contemplated what the answer to the riddle was. Francis attempted to search for the answer but that proved unuseful since there was no service. Alfred paced across the floors as his anger began to boil. Custis was playing with them but in this game they were the pieces and not the players. Francis stood beside the desk with eyes closed with a calm aura. That made Alfred even angrier. How could he be so calm? The American ran to the touch pad and began to input random words until he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Francis.

**“Calm down….”**

**“How? How can I fucking calm down?!”**

Alfred growled with desperation in his eyes. The Frenchman opened his mouth to respond as the floor shook. The two nations stood back to back as the room shaked. The walls began to move inwards causing the room to shirk by the second.

 **“Mon dieu! Hurry, enter ‘** **_Age’_ ** **!”**

**“Are you sure?”**

**“Just fucking do it! Merde!!!!”**

Francis pushed back on the walls that now stood a few feet apart. Alfred quickly entered the word as the little space they had left began to make him claustrophobic. The small door swung open with a clunk. Francis grabbed Alfred by the arm and shoved him inside. Francis dove inside and fell onto a block of stone. Francis groaned looked at Alfred who lay on his back breathing heavily. The two stood up as someone cleared their throat in front of them. Sherlock, John, and a frustrated Arthur stood on the other side of the room silently. Francis smacked Alfred on the back of the head causing him to cry out in pain.

**“OW! What the hell man?”**

**“You almost had us killed! If you let your anger control you then soon there won’t be any of YOU left!”**

Alfred looked at the floor sheepishly as Francis crossed his arms. Arthur rolled his eyes. Francis and Alfred looked around the room. There were no decorations or furniture. The walls were stone and so were the floors. Behind Sherlock, John, and Arthur stood a door similar to the one they went through but was made of what appeared to be glass. Across the room to the right stood another door with a silver knocker and metal bars along the wood. It looked like a door that led to a dungeon. Maybe it did. A few bulbs hung from wires on the ceiling lighting small parts of the room. Alfred cleaned his glasses on the bottom of his shirt and looked around the room. He spoke to the trio across the room.

**“What happened to you dudes?”**

**“We were given a riddle. Quite easy to solve though, Sherlock got it right away.”**

Arthur mumbled beneath his breath. Sherlock smirked as John rolled his eyes. Alfred and Francis glanced at each other. A riddle. It took them almost an hour but it seems that the others got it easily. John opened his mouth to speak when a gunshot echoed through the room. It came from the dungeon door. The group ran to the door. Sherlock pulled at the handle effortlessly but it was clearly locked. John quickly pulled Sherlock to the side as Arthur kicked the door down with little effort. The group quickly entered the room to see something they never expected. The room was indeed a dungeon seeing that several chains lined the walls. Lying across the room, in a pool of blood, was him. Matthew. They finally found him What was not expected though was tears that streamed down his face as another person laid in a pool of their own blood. Molly. Matthew looked awful. Stains of blood covered his clothes as smudges of dirt covered his hands and face. His glasses were cracked and a his lips were pressed into a thin line. Molly almost looked worse. She had a bloody gash across her forehead and a blood stain near her midriff grew by the second. Molly was shot. And dying. The Arthur, Alfred, and Francis ran over to Matthew quickly as the nation went completely pale seeing them. John ran over to Molly who lay unconscious. Sherlock paced around the room searching for the shooter as John felt for Molly’s pulse. Alfred had attached himself to the half stunned half dead Matthew who couldn’t mutter a word. Francis took off his coat and pulled it over Matthew’s shoulders after Arthur pulled Alfred off of him. John had taken off his belt and tied it tightly around Molly’s waist as she bleed. Arthur went over to John and Molly as Sherlock continued to search around the room like a caged animal.

**“Sherlock, we have to go!”**

**“He must be here….”**

**“Sherlock! She’s dying for god’s sake!”**

John cried as Arthur and himself began to prop Molly up. Francis and Alfred had one hand wrapped around Matthew’s waist while the other held the Canadian's arms over their shoulders. Sherlock’s head snapped towards them as he began to retort but then he saw all the blood. So much blood. He walked towards them and quickly picked up Molly in the bridal position. John and Arthur retraced their steps out as Sherlock held Molly while Alfred and Francis supported Matthew. The group ran from the power station and stood beside Francis’ car. John began to call Lestrade for help and an ambulance while Matthew finally muttered a few words with a raspy voice.

**“He’s gone…. He left hours ago. The gunshot you heard was a recording. Sorry….”**

The group looked at Matthew who pulled himself from Francis and Alfred. The nation straightened his back and let out a long sigh. His wounds had already began to heal but a thin red scar around his neck still could be seen. Matthew blinked his violet eyes and rubbed the back of his head. He couldn’t recall much but it was enough. After he had left Molly in the morgue he ran about several sites leaving clues for anyone in search of him until he came upon a museum. There he got kidnapped. Again. Something he hoped highly against. Custis had brought him back to the power station, where he had originally been held, and of course tortured him more. Not for information. For fun. Then over a few hours repeatedly asked Matthew for the names of nations until he just left. Matthew was left in the dark to bleed until Custis brought someone back with him. Molly. She wasn’t injured until a few hours before the others arrived. After receiving a call from someone, he referred him to ‘M’, Custis presided to shoot Molly and leave. He just left leaving a couple of lines enriched permanently into Matthew’s mind. _‘Don’t worry. We will met again. Try not to miss me to much dear. I got a better deal.’_ What that meant Matthew may never know. He just knew he would never forget it. Matthew took off his glasses and slipped them into his pocket. Before Sherlock could another question several cop car pulled up to them with their sirens blaring as an ambulance followed behind. Several medics immediately took Molly from Sherlock and wheeled her into the ambulance on a stretcher. Lestrade ran over to Sherlock and John quickly as several other heavily armed cops ran into the power station. Arthur pulled Matthew into a soft hug and smiled.

**“Are you alright lad?”**

**“Yeah.”**

**“It’s over now.”**

**“I sure hope so….”**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe I'm almost done... I'll post soon :D


	18. Case Closed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit late but I forgot to mention that this fic is post His Last Vow / The Abominable Bride (the modern part of it) but I changed the year to 2020

##### ROOM 300, ST BARTHOLOMEW'S HOSPITAL / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 20, 2020 / 12:36 PM

Molly lay silently in a white hospital bed. She wore a white hospital gown with small  flower prints A monitor beside her beeped every few seconds as red lines appeared according to her heart rate. Her light brown hair was tied in a messy bun that rested on the extremely puffy pillow on of the doctors had stuffed beneath her. Molly barley could recall what happened. After being kidnapped she woke up in the same room as Matthew who was unconscious but Custis was there. Another man she had to put on the list of psychopaths she’s met. The American repeatedly asked her for information, hitting her a couple times causing her to be even more terrified of the situation, and then finally stopped when Matthew awaked. Then he just moved onto Matthew who fought back and even heatbutted him at one period. That didn’t help the situation. Custis left them alone at one moment to Molly’s relief. That gave Matthew the chance to explain the situation to Molly. He explained what was going on and told Molly who he really was. What his family really was. Of course that didn't help the situation. What she heard outside the door terrified her even more. She swore she heard it. That voice. His voice. Her suspicion wasn't confirmed until he poked his head through the door with a mischievous grin. He slipped a note into her coat pocket with a silent smile. She still hadn’t read that note. Something for her to do another day. The the consulting criminal left quickly as he called out that one line. That one damn line that was posted on all screens and billboards.

_**“Did you miss me?”** _

Then when Custis returned to the room he…. shot her. After that Molly couldn't remember a thing after that expect Matthew constantly begging her to stay awake. That didn't last. Next thing she knew she was in the emergency room about to go under surgery. Which by the way, went quite well. The all the damage was patched up and the bullet in a small plastic bag the police reluctantly let her keep. Molly blinked against the bright light that hung on the ceiling. She was due for release the next day but damn, her midriff hurt like hell.  


Then, Molly heard the door open. She looked over to see John, Lestrade, and Sherlock slip into the room one by one. Molly smiled, the last visit she received was from the police. It was nice to see some familiar faces for once. With no family all she really had were friends and Toby, of course. Lestrade and John both stood at the end of the bed while Sherlock stood beside the door with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. Molly spoke with a quiet voice. 

 **“Oh, hello, something you need? I don't think I'm in any state to perform an autopsy….”**  

 **“No no, we just wanted to see how you’re doing. That's all.”**  

Lestrade said while John while his head at her previous remark about an autopsy. Molly smiled but then she saw Sherlock who wore a sudden confused look. They did need something. Information, most likely. Molly kept smiling, smiling helped blur the pain, and straighten up in attempt to get a better view of the trio. A shot of pain flowed through her side causing her to slip back into her previous position.

 **“You want to know about** **_him_ ** **….”**

 Molly said smoothly reading the mood. Sherlock took a step away from the door. His eyes looked like they were full of fire. Quite reasonable. This did involve Moriarty; the consulting criminal. The man who came back from the dead. After Sherlock. The game was just beginning and who knew what was coming next. No one knew. Not even Mycroft who had come earlier for the same information. Apart from the cold-blooded tone Mycroft used, he did wish her a hopeful recovery. Though, Molly could tell that was just because a doctor had entered before the other Holmes brother departed the hospital. How kind of him. Molly laughed to herself the rest of that day. Sherlock spoke with an icy cold tone.

**“Yes, and details are necessary. Let's hope your head isn't to messed up from the morphine.”**

**“My head is fine….”**

Molly murmured while crossing her arms. Sherlock could have the decency to be a little less rude. Molly closed her eyes and retold what she had seen. Heard for the matter. The bastard even gave her a note. But Molly didn’t want to say that. She new she should but…. Something begged her in her mind not to. Not yet. It was not right to keep that information to herself but Molly wanted to read the note before anyone else. Just incase. Maybe something embarrassing about her was in it for blackmail purposes. Molly didn’t know. But she decided to take that risk. To keep that part of the story hidden from all. Even the police. Even the English government.

 **“He looked the same. Wore a suit and tie. Umm…. talked with Custis for quite a bit. Then he popped his head in the room, smiled, and then called out ‘Did you miss me?” And left. That's it really. There isn't much to tell….”**  

The trio didn’t stay to long after that. Lestrade received a phone call from Scotland Yard and left with a unemotionally goodbye. Simple. Molly had struck up a plain conversation with John about how he was writing the three-day long case on his blog. He wanted her permission to include her. Molly gladly agreed. It’s not everyday you get to be featured in John Watson’s blog. The elements of the story were changed though. Names were adjusted and true identities twisted into something else. According to John he was going to portray the Arthur, Alfred, and Matthew as a family and Francis as a close friend. What was now a confusing kidnapping turned out to be Moriarty's first game. Or so they thought, Custis was obviously another leader in the criminal. The same level as Moriarty in the United States maybe. Custis had worked for the President and that he was now on the most wanted list must be…. Awful. Molly couldn’t imagine what the nations were going through but hopefully they got through it.

Molly snapped out of her thoughts as John picked up a call from Mary and left with a kind farewell. That left her with a motionless Sherlock who had barely made any moves since he entered the room. The detective pulled the Molly’s rubik's’ cube from his pocket and tossed it to her instead of just handing her the toy. Molly caught the cube and looked it over. The puzzle still was unsolved. Molly looked up to see Sherlock had left. She smiled to herself. Molly placed the cube on a desk beside her and began to attempt to conjure some sleep. Molly closed her eyes but her phone beeped a few seconds later. Molly reached over to the desk and picked up her phone. Maybe it was Meena. Molly’s smile faded as she saw the texter’s contact name. Jim. Jim from IT. Or better known as Moriarty. Molly read the message and paled. Something she hoped wouldn’t happen just happened. She was definitely was going to confess the truth to the others the next day. No doubt about. What Moriarty just sent meant he listened to her conversation with Lestrade, John, and Sherlock. He was eavesdropping. Somehow. Molly turned the phone off and forced herself to sleep as the text message rang in her ears.

  
_LiAr liAR pANts oN FiRe_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! The next to are quite long I must say.... darn I never thought I'd be at the end of this story


	19. Maple Syrup

##### CANADA’S MEETING HALL / QUEBEC-CANADA / SEPTEMBER 27, 2020 / 11:30 AM

 

Matthew walked down a dim hall lugging a red backpack in his left hand while Kumajiro was held to his chest with the other. He wore a light red sweater, tall brown boots, and light green khakis. Though it was not noticeable, bandages were wrapped around his waist, chest, arms, shoulders, hands, and to the beginning of his neck. The wounds he had received from the events the week before still hand the healed. Even the scar from being beheaded still could clearly be seen as a thin red line that circled his throat. It’s slightly unusual that the wounds haven't healed but the fact that he was dealing with inner damage was a good enough excuse. Matthew quickened his step as a large brown door came into sight. The meeting, for an odd reason, had been moved to his nation. Unanimously. The only reason the location was moved was Arthur email stating that it would be a safer choice. The events that had happened, Matthew personally called it **The Shit Show** , had been made known through the nation community and no one wanted that to happen to them. Matthew clearly understood that because Custis had disappeared. No one could find him. His words still rung in the nation’s ears. _‘Don’t worry. We will meet again. Try not to miss me too much dear. I got a better deal.’_ Matthew shook the bad thoughts from his head and focused on the bright side. After he had been released from the hospital, much to the doctor’s dismay, Matthew’s boss had told him to take the month off. Of course, he then decided to binge watch Naruto while slowly taking pain medication every hour. Kumajiro, weirdly acting like a therapist, made Matthew write down his experience so he would not have any nightmares. An odd theory but it worked for him. No post-trauma dreams plagued him apart from the constant reminder of Custis’ words. That concerned him. Matthew, being the hosting nation, decided to arrive two hours early. Not just to prepare the room but to prepare himself.  He knew someone was bound to ask him what happened during The Shit Show. That was something Matthew hoped would not happen. But there was no escaping this. No, not getting noticed this time. He reached the meeting room door and came to a halt. Matthew slung the backpack straps over his shoulder, immediately regretted his decision as a bolt of pain shot through his shoulder, and turned the doorknob to let himself inside. Matthew froze in the doorway as he saw what he had hoped he wouldn’t see. The other nations.

The meeting room was designed to look like one often seen in colleges or schools with a lot of students. Seats lined the horizontal end of the rectangle like the room, each row of seats lay on one level of a platform, while a podium and desk sat parallel. The host, whichever nation the meeting was taking place in, sat at the desk beside the podium while the guest nations sat in the seats across. Meaning, in this case, everyone would be looking directly at Matthew for the beginning of the meeting until presentations or speeches began.

Matthew paled at the sight of the other nation glued to their conversations across the room. And then, for once, they saw him. The room slowly silenced as Matthew awkwardly closed the door behind him with a weak smile. Kumajiro then fell asleep which made Matthew even more nervous to now face the attention alone. This degree of attention was something the Canadian was uncomfortable with. It made him wish he was invisible. Matthew quietly shuffled over to the desk in the front as some nations returned to their noisy conversations. Matthew’s shoulders relaxed and dropped his backpack to the floor while placing his sleeping polar bear onto the empty desk surface. Kumajiro never minded where Matthew put him as long as no one woke him. That would be a mess. Matthew let out a squeak as he was brought into a bone crushing hug by Alfred who had come from behind him. The hug may have actually cracked one of his ribs as Matthew felt something inside him crack. Matthew turned his body difficulty and wrapped an arm around Alfred while using his other bandaged hand to pat the nation on the head. Alfred stuffed his face into Matthew’s collar bone. It didn’t seem as if he was going to let go anytime soon. Matthew began to feel light-headed. Maybe it was the previous blood loss from his wounds or the fact that Alfred’s iron grip prevented him from breathing. Matthew assumed it was both reasons.

**“Al, *wheeze*, I can’t breathe….”**

Alfred released Matthew quickly and looked down at the floor with a sheepish grin. The area around the American’s eyes was red but that was no surprise to Matthew.

After about four days of being through surgeries and stitches, Matthew received his first visitor, Alfred. The brother was in tears and cried for almost an hour until Matthew was able to calm him. Alfred had sobbed that he wasn’t a good enough brother. A failed hero. Matthew assumed he thought this was about how long it took for them to find him, but in reality, it was because of Custis. Alfred loathed the fact that Custis was from his own nation and loathed the man even more for the injuries he caused his brother. Matthew cringed at the memory of him calming down Alfred, and unconsciously using a few Disney movie quotes, and finally telling his brother that _‘Heroes never succeed the task at hand without damage being done, whether to themselves or to one close by’_. Very poetic in his opinion. That one line seemed to make Alfred smile and recite the aftermath of The Shit Show with humorous effect.

Matthew smiled at the memory and then snapped back into the present. He took a few needed breaths and re-wrapped a bandage that had come undone on of his hands. Alfred cleared his throat and looked up at Matthew. His voice wavered slightly with an emotion Matthew couldn’t identify.

**“Look, Mattie, I’m sorry….”**

**“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Al.”**

**“Yeah. But-”**

**“- I’ve already forgiven you for everything. You know, Al, you’re a good brother. Eh? Don’t convince yourself otherwise.”**

Matthew said cheerfully. He placed a hand on Alfred’s shoulder. The Canadian smiled as Alfred wore a tearful expression. Matthew rolled his eyes and brought Alfred into a light hug. Most thought Matthew was the sensitive one, hell, they were so wrong. Matthew is the quiet one, Alfred the loud one, but Matthew is very tough and so is Alfred but he also had a thin shell that is easily broken. Matthew recalled one time when he told Alfred he needed to get better control of his political parties which caused the nation to break into tears from past traumatic memories of elections. Matthew pulled away from the hug and smiled at Alfred who had regained his cheerful behavior.

**“You ok now?”**

**“Yeah, dude.”**

**“Good.”**

**“Matthew….”**

The Canadian turned around to face Arthur. The Englishman wore his signature dark green jacket and brown pants. He held a thick packet of papers tied with a red string. Matthew’s smile almost faltered as he took the older nation’s grim expression into account.

Matthew recalled Arthur's short visit while he was hospitalized. Arthur had just entered the recovery room with Peter at beside him and said a few kind words. And then remained silent. Peter, of course, explained what had happened to his arm, which was in a cast, and then asked the Canadian over a dozen questions. Arthur eventually stepped in and the two left. Just like that.

Matthew snapped into reality as Arthur handed the packet to him and crossed his arms across his chest. Either something bad had happened or the Englishman was in a sour mood. Nevertheless less, Matthew gazed at the packet in his hands. It was a story almost. We'll, that's what it looked like. The words ‘Kidnapping On York Street’ was written in a lovely font across the front page and underneath was the author’s name in pen. John H. Watson. Matthew immediately recognized the name. Watson was one of the humans who helped the others find him and Molly. Matthew untied the string and flipped through the pages which were bound together with thick strings. Matthew quickly grasped the story's plot as he skimmed through the first pages. It was the case. His and Molly’s kidnapping case. Arthur smirked as Matthew looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. Arthur pointed at the paper in Matthew’s hands with his index finger.

**“Lovely isn't it?”**

**“This is the…. case?”**

**“In it's all.”**

**“Was this made public?”**

**“On a blog, yes. The names and other things were changed of course….”**

**“This is the unmodified version, eh?”**

**“Aye. Watson insisted I give it to you, so you could see our side of the story.”**

Matthew mumbled thanks as Arthur quickly returned to his seat. Matthew began to take a seat at his desk as Alfred walked back to where he was previously seated. Matthew picked up Kumajiro, crossed his arms around the bear, and leaned back into his seat. Matthew’s mind began to wander as he sat silently listening to the others talked noisily. After almost a minute this train of thought was broken as he heard the screeching of chairs. Matthew looked up to see a few nations move their seats closer to where he was seated. The Canadian hugged Kumajiro tightly as Yao called out to him.   

**“I hope you don't mind sharing your side of the story, aru?”**

Matthew frowned and blinked his violet eyes. He did expect someone to ask him about what happened to himself but Matthew most definitely didn't expect half the room to be interested. Matthew nodded and grabbed his red backpack. He slipped the packet of papers inside and then pulled out a plastic bottle with an amber liquid inside. Matthew dropped the bag to the floor as Mathias peeked his head over Lukas’.

**“Oh, my gosh is that bOOZE?”**

He yelled excitedly which caused Lukas to hit him over the head. Matthew's cheeks reddened as he quickly shook his head. He then heard Alfred snicker at his sudden embarrassment.

**“This is tea….”**

Matthew lied while standing and pulling his chair around the desk in order to face the others directly.  What he really was drinking would be a bigger embarrassment. He then sat back down, placed the bottle on the desk behind him, and then placed Kumajiro onto his lap. The polar bear curled up into a ball and drifted to sleep, finally free from Matthew iron grip of a hug. Several other nations now had quoted seeing what was to come.

**“Before I start I'm gonna say that you guys aren't gonna get every detail….”**

Matthew said quietly but it was quite clear that everyone heard. He cringed at his poor choice of words. Elizaveta, who oddly held a video camera, spoke up.

**“Why not? Details are fun.”**

**“Sorry. Unless you guys wanna hear about me being tortured I think I'll censor thing, eh? Or is that something  I should be magically comfy with?”**

Matthew said with a clear voice that held a hint of sarcasm. The Hungarian nodded and slipped away the video camera. Matthew's statement made his message clear. Very clear. Matthew cleared his throat and twiddled his thumbs. This was going to be a long day full of judgment. As much as he cared for the other nations, they could be quite judgy sometimes. Questioning almost everything. Matthew blinked his eyes and took a deep breath. With that said and done, the last side conversation dissolved and he began.

**“When I first arrived here in London I noticed this van. It’s like there were guns attached to it, eh, but I saw the same van earlier at the airport. Odd, right? Well, I went to my apartment, left my stuff there, and later went out for food….”**

Matthew hesitated. The other nations weren't going to let him leave it at this. Matthew took a deep breath and noticed Francis give him a small smile of reassurance. Any support at all was enough for a boost. Matthew presses himself to continued.

**“….After that, it was kinda clear to me that I was being followed. So after I ate I ran to my car, which was parked about two blocks away, and locked Kumajiro in my car. These, uh, two guys knocked me out. Maple…. It’s kinda blurry but the next thing I knew I was uh… chained to the floor-”**

**“So you could have broken out then, Matvey?”**

Ivan asked from his seat beside Natalya. Matthew immediately silenced. The answer was clear to him; he just didn’t want to say his response. Matthew’s strength easy reached Ivan’s level, him being the second largest nation and Ivan being the first, but his strength hadn’t been why he couldn’t escape. Curiosity. Matthew didn’t escape because he was just plain curious. Curious about why this was happening to him, what was wanted from him. He didn’t want to escape he wanted answers. Matthew snapped out of his state and conjured a random excuse.

**“Sorry, I didn’t mention this but uh, sheesh…. They drugged me while I was knocked out. I don’t know what it was but it made me super dizzy…. I could barely think straight for the matter.”**

**“Oh…. that makes TOTAL sense. OK!”**

Ivan chirped. Matthew smiled weakly as he sensed that his lie easily seen through. A few skeptical looks glanced towards each other but not one nation spoke a word. No one cared. Matthew picked up his bottle of ‘tea’ and took a small gulp of the amber liquid. Matthew placed the bottle on his desk and continued on with his tale.

**“Alright, maple…. so then Custis, freaking hoser, the leader of whatever group he controlled questioned me. We'll, I wouldn't say** **_questioned_ ** **it as more like just plain torture. After a bit, it was too much so I made a small deal with him.”**

**“You did what?!”**

Katyusha called out angrily as she stood from beside Ivan. Matthew flinched and went a light pale color. Her anger was understandable. Matthew smiled weakly and took a calm breath.

**“I made a deal in exchange for my release. Simple.”**

**“Simple?”**

**“Yeah. That's all.”**

Matthew said coldly as he hugged Kumajiro to his chest. He understood their anger. Why they were upset that he made a deal. Deals are meant to be broken. What he did was risky but it was all he could do. All he had to bargain. Matthew leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. All his thoughts were scrambled. The tale, his story, his life, he didn't want to share it. His fear of what would come. What they would think of him. That he was weak. That he could have just escaped and wasted the time of others. Risked nothing. He had to stop and make a decision.

Either refuse to finish his tale, risking the trust of others, or continue and possibly end up with the others never looking at him again. No matter what decision he made trust was on the line. A thin line. 

Matthew let out a long sigh and cringed. He had to do something. The Canadian opened his eyes to see the others glaring at him. Some looked concerned, some angry, the others were a mix of the two. Matthew straightened his back and looked down at Kumajiro who looked back at him. The choice is his. Opinion A or B. Simple yet not. Matthew stood up with Kumajiro in one hand while he grabbed his seat. He dragged his chair back around to his desk and then sat back down. His decision was final. Matthew looked at his fellow nations, his friends, and family, and spoke calmly. 

**“I'm going to stop the storytelling now. Look, I understand why the lot of you would like to know what happened to me. But, honestly, I am just not very comfortable telling it right now. Maybe in the future but it'll just be a waste of time. Eh, I told nobody any nation’s identities, no one’s addresses, no other information that could endanger any of us. Simple. All the events during those three days were grisly. I don't even want to recall it. Or think of it for the matter. I'm just not comfortable with this. I hope you all won't act like hosers and bug me about my decision. Please. I'll leave this conversation with a simple overall summary.**

**They could not break me. Honest.”**

Matthew looked at his shoes as the room silenced. He cringed and began to think he made a mistake but soon everyone just returned to their personal conversations. Matthew smiled to himself and murmured a few words to Kumajiro who then just slipped into another nap. Matthew picked up his drink and drank it quietly. 

**“Is that** **_really_ ** **tea Birdie?”**

Matthew looked up at Gilbert who was grinning mischievously while leaning on Elizaveta’s seat. Ludwig rolled his eyes at his older brother causing Matthew to grin to himself. Matthew felt relieved seeing that his topic was dropped. This was good.

**“It's not tea Gil.”**

**“What?!”**

Alfred cried out as Gilbert collapsed in laughter. Arthur rolled his eyes in annoyance. Matthew laughed and tipped the bottle upside down. The liquid dropped down the sides slowly but most of the amber liquid stuck in its place. Francis sighed in disbelief and Alfred held a hand to his mouth.

**“What the fuck bro. That is just sick.”**

**“It's just maple syrup, eh.”**

**“Matthew you have a bottle of maple syrup of which you have been drinking. Goodness what went wrong when I raised you?”**

Arthur remarked while he placed his face in his hands. The Canadian smiled and pulled out the packet of papers from his red backpack. He began to read the case silently with a smile as the other nation continued speaking. The meeting would officially begin in about an hour and then work would begin. Matthew smiled as Kumajiro peeked over the papers. Then the silence was broken as a small pinging noise rang out. A few nations checked their phones but then continued what they were doing seeing it was not their device. Matthew pulled out his phone, which luckily Francis had given him, and checked the phone screen. His expression paled and his smiled faltered. An unknown phone number had sent him a message. Matthew murmured the message beneath his breath.

_ THIS IS NOT OVER _

It was clear who sent him the message. But how? Matthew took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. This was bad. Matthew slipped his phone into his pocket and closed his eyes. His heart was racing.

**“Shit….”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. One more chapter to go!!! Trust me, it's a good finish.... I hope :)


	20. Epilogue

##### BAKER STREET / LONDON-ENGLAND / SEPTEMBER 30, 2020 / 12:00 AM

Three knocks rang through the air breaking the unusual silence. Mrs. Hudson’s head perked up and she left her room passing by a boiling kettle. She walked down a hall past a staircase and swung open the front door of the Baker Street flat. In the doorway stood a blonde man in his 20s wearing a dark green suit while holding the hand of a young boy who wore a wrist cast on his right hand, green shorts, and a white t-shirt designed with fishes. The older gentleman smiled at Mrs. Hudson and stretched out his hand. Mrs. Hudson shook his hand and let them inside and closed the door behind them. The older gentleman released the young boy’s hand and placed it on they boy’s shoulder instead. The young boy looked around in awe as the older gentleman cleared his throat and tightened his black tie around his collar.

**“Apologizes for the intrusion. My name is Arthur Kirkland and this is my son, Peter. Are you Mrs. Hudson?”**

**“Oh, yes. Are you a client?”**

**“I was and I might be again.”**

**“Ah, are you from that new one of John’s? Kidnapping On York Street? An interesting one I must say….”**

**“Yes, quite interesting. Not over, though.”**

**“Well, I mustn't keep you. They’ll be  just up the stairs. Tell the boys I’ll be up with some tea later.”**

**“Cheers. Peter, what do you say?”**

**“Thanks, Missus!”**

Mrs. Hudson laughed and returned to her kitchen as Arthur’s emerald eyes gazed up the staircase. Peter adjusted his wrist cast and stuffed his left hand into his short jeans. His mind wandered to the nights before when Arthur had left Kumajiro and himself home alone. When Arthur, Francis, and Alfred had come home after they went to find Matthew the three of them returned in sour moods. Peter wanted to approach them at first but eventually learned what had happened from Kumajiro who had snuck downstairs and overheard them. Soon enough though things calmed down and then Arthur left him to go to the international meeting in Canada. Then things got worse. According to a pissed Arthur over the phone, Custis had texted Matthew during the meeting and even called him later on with a grisly death threat. But an unexpected twist came to play when Ravis’ revealed his excellent hacking skills. The Latvian was able to track Custis’ location from the texts. Most of the nations were already pissed so when Custis proceeded to act snobbily when they found him it was only predicted that he would be disposed of. And did they make work of him. Information on his group was found and sent to the American government and then some information was sent to the British government. It turns out Custis didn’t work completely alone, he had help from a certain someone. Once Arthur had discovered who had aided Custis he immediately returned to London on the 29th. He originally planned to go straight to Baker street but Peter ha to go to the doctor and get his cast removed and replaced with a simple wrist cast. Then this morning, Peter refused to be left alone again so Arthur took him with him to Baker street which leads up to know. Peter felt Arthur take his hand again and he looked up.

**“Come on, let’s go up.”**

**“Kay….”**

Peter said happily. Arthur smiled and the two walked up the stairs to hear an almost silent conversation. Arthur walked up to an open door and knocked three times and Peter looked inside. A tall gentleman with black curly hair sat in a small leather chair while a short brown haired man sat across from him in a large armchair reading the paper. The two looked up as Arthur entered the room while pulling Peter alongside him. The short man stood up and approached them as the tall man hunched over in his seat with a dissatisfied expression. Arthur shook the man’s hand and smiled. The man looked at Peter with a confused expression and then looked up at Arthur.

**“Ah. Hello, Arthur. Who might this be?”**

**“This is my son, Peter. Lad, this John Watson. The other one is Sherlock Holmes. They helped the others and myself find Matthew.”**

**“Really?! AWESOME!”**

**“Why did you bring a child?”**

Sherlock grumbled while glaring at Peter with cold eyes. John looked at Sherlock disapprovingly but he just rolled his eyes in response. Arthur sighed seeing what was coming and tightened his grip on Peter’s hand in case the micronation go any ideas. Peter puffed out his chest and held up a fist.

**“I’ll have you know that I’m in my 50s! You are the child here!”**

Peter called out causing Arthur to stifle a laugh. John took a step back in surprise and Sherlock perked up in curiosity. Peter looked up at Arthur with a pleased expression and grinned. The personification easy exceeded the age of both men. Sherlock stood from his seat and tighten the striped nightgown he wore. He walked to the fireplace and picked up his skull. John crossed his arms and looked at the two personifications in awe.

**“So he’s like you? A nation?”**

**“Not exactly….”**

Arthur said as Peter pouted. Sherlock turned around and looked Peter over. It was clear that the two had relations with each other. The two were slightly identical, having the same eyebrows and their facial structure was quite similar. Peter’s hair color was a darker blonde than Arthur’s lighter blonde. Arthur had emerald color eyes while Peter’s eyes were a sea green color but very close in resemblance. But if they were related, and Peter wasn’t a nation than what was he? In order for him to be related to Arthur it must be something close to the United Kingdom but what? What wasn’t a nation but still a piece of land? For once the answer what not clear to him. Arthur smirked seeing that Sherlock couldn’t come up with a response. He looked down at Peter and nodded his head towards the two. Peter smiled getting the unclear message.

**“I’m a micronation called Sealand, but not for long! I’ll definitely become officially recognized someday… I hope.”**

**“Interesting. Why are you all here?”**

**“I’ll get to that in a moment. Peter, go see if you can help Mrs. Hudson with tea, would you?”**

**“Fine… Jerkland.”**

**“Lovely.”**

Arthur led Peter out of the room and then walked back in with a darker expression. John sat back down in his seat while Sherlock returned back to his chair. Arthur crossed his arms and looked from the two. He finally addressed John after a solid minute of silence.

**“How’s Dr. Hooper?”**

**“Oh, she’s doing fine, got out of the hospital the other day. She is a bit pissed too. How… how is Williams?”**

**“Matthew is recuperating. Well, apart from a little incident had happened not too long ago on the 27th.”**

Sherlock perked up with a disturbing smile on his face. He had not had another case since the John had published the Kidnapping On York Street on his blog. That was only part of the problem, Mycroft had been such a bother to them for the past few days. John cleared his throat which snapped Sherlock out of his momentary state. Arthur bit his bottom lip and glared at Sherlock who still wore an almost medieval smile. This was quite the case. Sherlock placed his fingers together at the tips and stood up.

**“I presume Custis contacted him. Do you need assistance tracking him?”**

**“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. It turns out the nation of Latvia is quite the hacker. We’ve already taken care of Custis.”**

Arthur said with a devilish smile. John looked at him curiously until he realized what Arthur had meant by ‘we’ve already taken care of Custis’. Sherlock frowned and placed his arms of his chair’s armrests. Arthur pulled out a cellphone from his pocket and sent a message to someone. He looked back up at the two humans and then sighed.

**“He didn’t work alone.”**

**“Is that so? John, it seems that case isn’t over.”**

**“Moriarty assisted him. I’ll contact you later with more information.”**

Sherlock silenced and his expression went cold. John looked at Arthur with an almost blank expression, his mouth agape. Ever since Moriarty's face had shown up on every television in England there had been not a single sign of the consulting criminal. Moriarty was not only a pain in the ass for the Holmes brothers and the entire United Kingdom but for Arthur himself. When Moriarty had blown up a building it not only killed people but gave Arthur a headache for the entire month. Moriarty existence was a constant headache. Arthur was about to speak again when there was a light knock at the door. The trio looked over to see Mrs. Hudson standing there holding a tray of tea with Peter by her side wearing a grin.

**“Sorry, have I interrupted something dears?”**

**“Oh, no. We’ll be leaving now. It’s been a pleasure.”**

**“Ah, your son here is quite the gentleman. I hope you have a nice day.”**

**“Same to you. Cheers.”**

Mrs. Hudson placed the tray of tea on a coffee table. Sherlock stood up and walked over to the dusty skull that lay atop a mantle above the fireplace. He glanced at the others with a frown on his face. Arthur handed John a slip of paper with his number on it and then took Peter by the hand. Arthur’s smile was clearly forced, but not entirely. The micronation waved the three humans goodbye as Arthur pulled him from the room. Mrs. Hudson clapped her hands together with a smile. Sherlock grabbed a cup of tea as Mrs. Hudson asked John about Mary. He ran his hands through his curly hair and closed his eyes. Thoughts jumbled through his mind as he failed to control them.

Why would Moriarty be a part of this if he gained nothing? Why would he kidnap Williams? A Canadian for the matter. Maybe it was because of his identity. No. He would have kidnapped him a year ago if that was the case. Why…?

Sherlock opened his eyes as a small buzzing sound came from his pocket. Sherlock placed his cup of tea on a small round table and pulled out his cell. It was Molly. She was calling him. At a time like this, he would have ignored her call but nothing else was stopping him now. Sherlock rolled his eyes and accepted the call. 

**“What could possibly be bothering you now Molly?”**

**“Shut it Sherlock, someone broke into my flat. Again.”**

**“Boring.”**

**“They left a note.”**

**“Still boring. Isn’t that Graham’s division?”**

**“Greg.”**

**“Whatever.”**

**“The note. It’s for you.”**

**“…”**

**“Sherlock?”**

**“Five minutes. Give me five minutes.”**

**“Oh, ok… does that mean you’re coming?”**

**“Yes, Molly. It does.”**

**** Sherlock hung up the call and looked over to John who was reading the paper. Nothing interesting was on it. Sherlock walked to the door and slipped his shoes on. John stood up and stared at him. Sherlock pulled on his coat and turned around. He tossed John his jacket and turned to leave. John pulled on his jacket and ran over to Sherlock. He grabbed the detective by the arm before he could run out of the flat.

**“Sherlock! Where are we going?”**

**“Molly’s flat.”**

**“Why?”**

**“Does it matter?”**

** **“No.”** **

 

** ******

# ****FIN

# 

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been an absolute pleasure and rollercoaster writing this fanfic! I would like to thank all who read this story and for continuing to read this to the end. I'd also like to thank my brother who gave me the motivation to continue this story. THANKS.  
> -CMCS1520


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